Some Goodbyes Are Easier Than Others
by A. X. Zanier
Summary: Alyx leaves the Agency
1. Unexpected Changes

  
  
Author: A. X. Zanier  
Rating: R (Language, violence, adult situations)  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or basic story ideas to 'The Invisible man'. Any additional  
characters or story ideas are mine to do with as I please.  
Timeline: # 8 along with "Some Good-byes/Darien.  
Immediately follows "Whether You Will" Original Post 10/25/2000 @ yahoogroups.com/IMFanfic  
Spoilers: References to various eps from Season One. Anything very speciifc and I'll give you a  
warning.   
Comments: This is the revised version of these two stories. The original was done as two separate  
stories told each from Alyx and Darien's POVs. In this revision I'm combining them, but still  
keeping the separate POVs and will mark each flip of POV.  
  
I've included an edited version of 'A Lesson in Lock Picking' to flesh out the story a bit more(pun  
intended) as well as an entirely new section. The rest has just been tweaked and expanded a bit.  
  
The beginning quote is by Darien the end quote is by Alyx.  
  
This was originally going to be the last Alyx Silver fic I was going to write. Boy, did I goof that  
one up.  
  
Thanks To Rebecca(WorkerCaste) for her usual excellent job as a Beta reader and forcing me to  
correct problems I was too lazy to deal with when I orginally wrote the story.  
  
  
Some Goodbyes Are Easier Than Others  
  
  
  
So this guy Bach -- no, not that one -- said, "Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is  
necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for  
those who are friends."  
  
Or for those who are, perhaps, a bit more. What happens in between will be remembered forever and  
can insure that you never wish to say 'farewell' again. -- D. F.  
  
  
  
Alyx  
  
Some days just should not happen. And of all the days I've had like that, this one was tops on the  
stop-and-rewind list. Well, the majority of it was, anyway.  
  
I spent the morning being poked and prodded by Claire, the Keeper, who had decided today was the  
perfect day for a physical. That turned into a major battle in our ongoing war; there were some  
things I wanted her to know nothing about, even if she was my doctor. I didn't keep wiping my  
medical records just so she could find out this way. My life might not have been entirely my own  
any more, but I did have some rights and some things I still wanted to remain private.  
  
When it was finally over, I was in no mood for attitude from Bobby Hobbes. He had decided that  
today, on orders from the chief himself, was the perfect day for a snipe hunt. We -- that is,  
Bobby, Darien, and myself -- spent the afternoon chasing our tails, stuck in the Agency's heap of a  
van. In the end, the information we'd been looking for was in the place we had started, where Bobby  
has insisted it couldn't be. I felt like I had spent the day being lead around by my nose, just to  
kill time and justify the report I was going to have to write.  
  
I proceeded to tell Bobby just that, in no uncertain terms. From there, it turned into one of our  
better shouting matches. No matter how much I might like the little nutcase, some days he just goes  
too far. It took a major intervention by Darien to keep me from literally peeling back Bobby's skull  
to check if he actually had a brain. I ended up walking off and making my own way back to the  
office. Things went downhill from there.  
  
Eberts got my attention as soon as I walked in the door and escorted me into the Official's office.  
I didn't say hello, didn't smile, didn't ask what he wanted. After all, this is the guy who  
essentially blackmailed me into working for him. We've kind of made a working arrangement -- he  
gives the assignments, preferably through a third party, and I do them. Period. I'm real big on  
avoiding social interaction with him.  
  
"You're being placed on a special assignment," the Official said, handing me an envelope. Thumbing  
through the package, I discovered it contained plane tickets, among other things. "Your contact  
will meet you in D.C. He has been given full disclosure about your abilities. You will cooperate  
fully."  
  
I looked at my tickets, noting the flight time of late tomorrow morning. "How long?" I asked. After  
the day I'd had, I was not in the mood to deal with shit like this.  
  
The Official cleared his throat.  
  
"There is no exact time scheduled for your return," Eberts said. "You will assist in this matter as  
long as necessary."  
  
"You've sold me to another agency," I stated, though I had the feeling that this was not the  
Official's idea. Not that it mattered. I already hated it. I was finally learning to deal with this  
new life I'd made here, and now he yanks the rug out from under me again. The story of my life  
lately, it seemed.  
  
"No. You are simply on long-term loan to them," Eberts said.  
  
"Are you going to tell me, or do I get to guess?" I was not thrilled, and was making sure they both  
knew it.  
  
"Your contact will give you all the information. Pack what you need for the trip. They will handle  
the rest," Eberts answered.  
  
"Fine," I said, feeling anything but. "Anything else?"  
  
"That should do it," the Official said, ending the conversation.  
  
  
  
It wasn't until later, when I was packing the silver photo album of my kids, that my brain suddenly  
kicked in. I was leaving, possibly for good. For all that there were days I hated working for the  
Agency and the Official, there was at least one person I would miss, really miss. I felt the sudden  
need to do something about it.  
  
I finished packing, then looked at the time. It was late. Nearly midnight. I couldn't. I shouldn't,  
I.... No matter how much I argued with myself I knew I wanted to. After all this time, after  
everything we had been through, I wanted to resolve the situation. I had actually made the decision  
days ago, but hadn't yet come up with a good enough excuse. It's not exactly a topic one can bring  
up while on a stake-out. Especially not with Hobbes looking over our shoulders.  
  
That was a topic in and of itself. He'd given us 'The Lecture' about a week after we got back from  
Florida. Blah blah blah, company pier, blah blah blah, co-workers, etc. It was even worse than his  
now-infamous 'need to know' speech. I'd read the damn rulebook. Had the stupid thing memorized  
thanks to the way my mind worked. You know what? I didn't care.  
  
I didn't care why I had been brought here. Didn't care about the Official's little long-range plan,  
which was now looking to be non-viable given the current situation -- hell, it was most likely  
non-viable anyway, given that I knew something the Official obviously didn't. I didn't care that it  
might be the stupidest thing I had ever done in my life. I wanted -- no, I needed -- to let him know  
how I felt, especially now. If I was really leaving for good, I couldn't leave this unresolved or it  
would haunt me for a long time to come. No matter where I went, that connection to him would remain.  
I knew that now. I couldn't let it be a painful one.  
  
I packed the last few items, made sure I had my ticket and contact info, and left. I tossed my bags  
into the back of my silver Jag and, after a single moment of indecision, I started the car and drove  
into the night.  
  
  
  
  
I stood there wrestling with myself for five minutes outside his door, trying to convince myself  
that he wouldn't send me away, no matter how justified he would be in doing so. I finally cursed  
myself for a fool and knocked. When Darien flung the door open, a rather irritated look on his  
face, I swear my heart stopped.  
  
"Oh. Hey, Alyx. Sorry, I thought you were Hobbes checking up on me again," he said. "What's up?"  
  
"Can I come in?" I asked, my voice sounding amazingly calm to my ears. What a shame it wasn't true.  
I was anything but calm. In fact, my heart was pounding hard enough that it was a good thing I  
didn't have Darien's quicksilver gland. He wouldn't be seeing much of me right now.  
  
"Yeah, sure," he said, stepping out of the doorway. I walked past him and into his apartment. I'd  
been over a couple of times before and not much had changed. I placed the six of Corona on the  
counter -- my peace offering for stopping by so late. He shut the door and came over, looking at me  
with raised eyebrows.  
  
"A bribe," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. It wasn't easy. "It is late, after all."  
  
"A bribe? Do I want to know?" Darien asked, picking up a bottle and examining it for a moment.  
  
I shrugged. "I can't answer that, actually."  
  
I watched him crack open the bottle and lean against the counter, taking a drink. I removed my  
jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. We'd been working together for quite a while now,  
and it had been a tumultuous experience. Trying to balance our working relationship and our  
personal one had been a challenge.  
  
We had discovered that we worked very well together, our skills and abilities complementing one  
another. Thanks to my talents, some things had been easy. With some practice, for example, he had  
become reasonably comfortable with our keeping in touch mind-to-mind during our more covert  
assignments. Since gaining full control, I rarely had to worry about getting more than I intended  
when I touched his mind. Not that it mattered; I had gotten more than enough already to ensnare me.  
  
That other link, the one I tried to ignore, was always there in the background. Some days it was  
all that kept me going. I knew I shouldn't let it, but what could I do? It invaded even past my  
shielding, no matter how tight it was. I just did my best to ignore it and not let it influence me.  
Some days were more successful than others.  
  
It was our personal relationship that had its problems. It wasn't that I didn't like the man, the  
gods knew that. If I were any more attracted to him I'd be a drooling mess on the floor. Yet I'd  
felt obligated to keep away from him. Between the Official's little plans, which I wanted no part  
of, and things that still haunted me from my past, getting involved with him had seemed like a bad  
idea.  
  
It had taken time, perhaps too much time, but I didn't care anymore.  
  
I was finally willing to admit exactly how I felt about him, but suddenly I wasn't sure how to go  
about it. I chuckled at the thought. I'd spent so much time pushing him away that I wasn't quite  
sure how to switch gears. I also wasn't sure if he'd still be the least bit interested -- up until  
a couple of weeks ago, we'd pretty much done nothing but argue and grouch at one another. Neither  
of us was able to keep our feelings about various things inside for very long, at least not when we  
were near each other.  
  
I walked over to where he stood watching me. I took the bottle from his hand and took a long drink  
from it. Then I placed the bottle on the counter.  
  
"Alyx?" he said quietly, sounding both surprised and confused.  
  
I couldn't speak; I just looked at him. It seemed to go on forever, but just as I was ready to  
break, to pull away, to leave once again, his hand came up and caressed my cheek. I sighed and  
closed my eyes for a moment. Thankful the he'd been able to do what I, obviously, could not.  
  
When I opened my eyes he was looking at me, somewhat bewildered. I took his hand in mine and his  
looked changed. I knew what he was thinking; we'd been through this so many times before. But  
instead of moving his hand away, I kissed his palm.  
  
He looked startled but recovered quickly. His hand slid back along my face and into my hair. He  
closed the last of the distance between us, his other hand coming up to lightly grasp my chin, and  
he said in a quiet voice, "Alyx, are you sure?"  
  
"Do you really want me to talk?" I retorted. So many times before, I had managed to talk both him  
and myself out of doing this. If he didn't do something quickly, I'd probably do it again.  
  
He chuckled, and it sent electric tingles of pleasure up my spine. "No. I guess not."  
  
Then he leaned down, burying both hands in my hair, and kissed me.  
  
A moment, a day, a lifetime passed. Ah, gods, I'd wanted this for so damn long, and I was beginning  
to wonder why I ever bothered fighting it. Then he pulled away. Our foreheads pressed together, we  
both tried to catch our breath. My hands had moved at some point; one lay against his chest,  
feeling the beating of his heart, the other was round the back of his neck playing with his hair.  
  
"Darien...." I began, wanting to explain why I was here, that I was leaving.  
  
Placing a finger on my lips, he silenced me. "No. No more talking."  
  
I wasn't about to argue.  
  
  
  
Darien  
  
It had been a hell of a day. I had spent the morning cooped up in the office I shared with Hobbes  
-- who was not in the best of moods -- because Claire was checking Alyx over for no reason we could  
discern. She'd had no major control problems for a while now. Maybe it was just to make sure she had  
completely recovered from the effects of that damn shock collar she'd been forced to wear.  
  
Not that it mattered. She was back home, and that was all I really cared about. Even Bobby seemed  
pleased that she'd come out of it all right. Not so long ago, he might have preferred it if she'd  
gone down with the ship, and might have even done his best to help it along. But not anymore. So  
when Alyx finally poked her head into our office and said the boss wanted to see us, he actually  
smiled at her.  
  
Things went downhill from there, though. Even I thought this little mission seemed like nothing but  
busy-work, but Hobbes insisted on following it exactly the way the Official had said to. Which meant  
we ended up chasing our tails all day, when we could have finished the job in about twenty minutes  
if he had listened to Alyx.  
  
Bobby still didn't quite trust her abilities and instincts on some matters. Either that, or today  
he was just being stubborn because he could. All I know is, when we finally got the information we  
were after, back at the place we had started, Alyx nearly took him apart. I had to step between the  
two of them before they really started going at it. Luckily it didn't get beyond the creative insult  
stage before she walked off, but boy can she get creative. She needed to remember to keep them in  
English, though, if she wanted Hobbes to understand them.  
  
Somehow she beat us back to the office, but she hadn't handed over the information. That was a bit  
odd, but we passed it along and got an impressive grunt of approval from the Official. That  
convinced me, more than anything else, that the afternoon had, indeed, been nothing but busy-work.  
With a sigh I decided to head home rather than spending another hour or so doing paperwork. I would  
still be expected to fill out a report on this complete waste of time and hand it over to Eberts for  
eventual burial in the basement archives, but I'd do it in the morning.  
  
The things I'll do for a paycheck.  
  
I had zero plans for the evening. It wasn't that unusual, but this night it bothered me for some  
reason. After eating dinner, I found myself with nothing to do and bored out of my mind. Since  
getting back from Florida, I had made a point of not going over to her place. No more surprise  
visits. I had taken up some hobbies, simply because I had no life outside of work these days, but I  
couldn't find enough energy to attack even one of them.  
  
I was seriously considering going to sleep out of sheer boredom when someone knocked on my door. I  
groaned, figuring that it was either Hobbes, who still had this annoying habit of checking up on  
me, or the woman from down the hall who just wouldn't get the hint that I wasn't interested. Her  
latest tactic was to deliver food or coffee at odd hours of the night when it was obvious I was  
still awake at two in the morning.  
  
So I have to admit I was feeling rather annoyed when I pulled the door open. Boy was I in for one  
hell of a surprise. Alyx stood in the doorway, looking rather shocked at my less than pleasant  
expression.  
  
"Oh. Hey, Alyx. Sorry, I thought you were Hobbes checking up on me again." It was midnight; what  
the devil was she doing here? "What's up?"  
  
"Can I come in?" She stood there looking up at me for a moment, and I wasn't sure what was going  
through her mind.  
  
"Yeah, sure." I moved out of the way and she walked past me, placing a six-pack of Corona on the  
counter. I didn't know she even knew that I drank that. I'd never told her and she hadn't been over  
here more than a couple of times, usually just in passing. Picking me up or dropping me off for  
work, stuff like that. Making a surprise late night visit on me? That wasn't her style.  
  
She looked over at me. "A bribe. It is late, after all."  
  
"A bribe?" I raised my eyebrows at her. "Do I want to know?" I closed the door and walked over to  
the counter, then picked up one of the bottles and looked at it for a moment. Something was up with  
Alyx, but for the life of me I had no idea why she was here. She'd made her position clear ages ago,  
and no matter how many times I'd tried to change her mind, she had remained steadfast. I had to  
admit, since returning from Florida, she'd been different towards me, but I had stayed away this  
time. She needed to decide for herself. I had finally figured out that I couldn't make the decision  
for her, no matter how much I wanted to.  
  
She shrugged. "I can't answer that, actually." She removed her jacket and tossed it over the back  
of one of the chairs. She was wearing a white tank top and a pair of broken-in jeans that sat low  
on her hips. I opened the beer and drank quickly. Damn, the woman dressed for comfort and still  
managed to drive me nuts.  
  
She was giving me this odd look and began to chuckle lightly to herself. I had to wonder what was  
going on in her pretty little head this time. She walked over to me then and took the bottle from  
my hand. As I watched, she drank about half of the contents and then set it on the counter.  
  
"Alyx...?" I couldn't believe she had possibly come over here for anything like that. Could she? I  
ran my hand along her cheek, caressing it. She closed her eyes and sighed, and I just stood there.  
In shock, I guess. We hadn't really talked much since getting back from Florida. She'd had to spend  
some time recovering; they'd done quite a number on her. Heck, I still wasn't at one hundred  
percent, either -- my shoulder was still a bit stiff -- but I forgot about all of it when she  
pulled my hand away from her face yet again. I could feel my heart sinking. Once again she was  
pushing me away. She looked me in the eyes and then kissed the palm of my hand. My heart skipped a  
beat. Several actually. I moved my hand and buried it in her hair, stepping closer to her. She  
didn't back off like she usually did, so I grasped her chin with my other hand and tipped her face  
up to look at me.  
  
"Alyx are you sure?" I wanted to hit myself for asking.  
  
"Do you really want me to talk?" she said with a smile.  
  
I chuckled. "No, I guess not." Then I buried my hands in her hair and kissed her. Like I was going  
to be dumb enough to ask her again, to wait, to give her a chance to decide yet again that she  
didn't want to do this. Although I had to admit this was nice, heck, way beyond nice. This was a  
dream, a fantasy, a reality. I felt her hands move over me. One playing with my hair and the other  
lying gently over my heart, which I was trying to keep calm. Good lord, it was difficult. And this  
was just the beginning. I pulled back slightly and rested my forehead against hers trying to catch  
my breath.  
  
"Darien, I..."  
  
Oh no. I wasn't going to let her talk herself out of this, not this time. I'd waited too damn long  
to get her alone and willing and I wasn't going to let her get away again. I placed a finger  
against her lips. "No. No more talking."  
  
She closed her eyes and kissed my finger tips, biting them gently. I guess she wasn't planning on  
running tonight. Opening her eyes, she stood up straight and bit me gently on the throat. I sucked  
in a breath. Crap. Control. I had to maintain control, but it was damn hard when she was, ah god,  
doing that. I put my hands on her shoulders and moved her away slightly. I closed my eyes trying to  
calm myself. I had no idea it was going to be this hard.  
  
I didn't want this to go like the last time, like with Allianora. That had been sheer foolishness,  
combined with a desperate need that, at the time, she had been the only one to fill. I was feeling  
trapped at the Agency, even after my act of rebellion, and she supposedly felt just as trapped by  
Chrysalis. For that night, that moment, we were able to find a bit of release from the lives we  
lived. It didn't matter who or what we were, just that, for a moment, we needed and wanted  
something we were usually denied.  
  
Wish it had been that simple. Of course I ended up being used, yet again. Hell, you could argue I  
used her as well, and I guess I did, but she shouldn't have had to pay with her life. There were  
days I felt any relationship I had was doomed to one failure or another. I didn't want that to  
happen again.  
  
I opened my eyes to look at Alyx. She had this sad, almost fearful, look on her face, obviously  
misinterpreting why I had moved her away, why I had held still for so long. For an instant I was  
tempted, can't deny that, to push her away, tell her to get out, go home...but only for an instant.  
I trailed my fingers down her arm and took her hand. Pulling her with me, I backed across the room  
and towards the bed. "C'mere you."  
  
I didn't want to rush through the motions this time. Didn't want to watch her through quicksilvered  
eyes, to be unable to really feel her because of the quicksilver between us. I was jealous for an  
instant, knowing she would not have the same difficulty, but only for an instant. Then I simply  
wanted to lose myself to her.  
  
She didn't resist, got this smug little smile on her face as I pulled her in close again. I took it  
as slow as I could, but it was difficult. I wanted to simply tumble her onto the bed, strip her  
bare, and take her until she cried out in pleasure. But I had to take it slow, this time anyway,  
for myself as much as for her. My heart rate wasn't cooperating though.  
  
When she kissed me, slid her tongue inside my mouth to find mine, I groaned. She seemed to find  
this amusing and changed her target to my ear. I could feel her hands working on the buttons of my  
shirt, sliding across my stomach once she had them all undone. There was a tingle, like a mild  
electric shock and she pulled her hands away with a jerk. When she brought them back it was onto  
the cloth of my shirt and not my skin, which I found odd, but couldn't really say anything about.  
The fact that she was here was taking up the majority of my attention.  
  
I decided to find out how she'd react to similar treatment. I moved my hands down to her hips and  
slid my left hand under her shirt, moving upwards to trace lightly across her rib cage. She froze  
in place, hardly breathing it seemed, just waiting. I kissed her on the temple and slid my hand  
further upward, causing her to moan softly.  
  
My control slipped.  
  
"Aw, crap," I muttered as the quicksilver flowed involuntarily across my body. I tried to pull away  
but she stopped me, not letting what must have been a very cold hand move away from her. "Alyx..."  
  
She shook her head. And then she quicksilvered herself and went from black and white to this  
glowing outline to my sight. "There, now we're even." She was laughing lightly. "What's the  
problem?"  
  
How the hell was I supposed to answer that? She was the problem, and she would continue to be as  
long as she stood there refusing to let me move my hand. "Sorry," I muttered, trying to convince  
the damn gland to stop doing what it does. The stupid thing wasn't listening.  
  
She gave me a gentle push and I found myself sitting on the bed, watching her. "Don't be. It's a  
compliment." She leaned in, resting her head against mine. "Think about something else," she  
whispered releasing my hand. She slid my shirt off and stood back holding it. After a moment, the  
quicksilver hardened on it and she gave it a quick shake, scattering the flakes about the room like  
snow under the lights at night. Seconds later, she did the same to herself.  
  
I was still unable to regain control, but the more I tried the more difficult it became. Maybe I  
should just give up trying to remain visible. It wasn't going to get any easier. "Like what? I  
kinda have one thing on my mind right now, and it's causing the problem."  
  
She laughed. "Try thinking about picking locks."  
  
I shook my head. "Are you crazy?"  
  
"Probably. Just try it. Think about each step in detail." She had moved closer, almost but not  
quite touching.  
  
It was worth a try anyway. I was going to have hard time explaining my 'unauthorized use' of the  
gland to the Keep as it was. Bureaucrats. I took a deep breath and thought back. I'd picked some  
annoying locks in my time.  
  
"Close your eyes," she said.  
  
How'd she know they were open? But I complied, picturing the lock in my mind and then running  
through the process step by step. The feel of the picks in my hands. The delicate touch required to  
feel what the tumblers within were doing. The slightest movement being translated back through the  
metal picks to my fingers, where I had to interpret the meaning and decide what to do next.  
  
"Touch me, Dare." She was right next to me and I could feel her breath on my ear, brushing through  
my hair.  
  
She took my hand and placed it on her side, and that's when I realized I could feel her. Her  
warmth, her skin. I opened my eyes to see her. See her in full living, breathing, color. The  
quicksilver had fallen away and I hadn't even realized it.  
  
She had removed her top while I was thinking of other things and I almost lost control again.  
"You...you're..."  
  
"Cold," she filled in for me. "But I think you can fix that."  
  
I was pretty sure I could too. I pulled her closer to me and kissed her throat, causing her to gasp  
in reaction. Her hands came down on my shoulders, and once again I felt that tingle of energy at the  
contact. But this time, I also got emotions. Hers.  
  
She jerked her hands away again. "Damn."  
  
I didn't let her move away. "Problem?" I moved lower and slid my tongue around her navel. She  
shuddered as I slipped it in.  
  
"Let's just say you're not the only one with control issues," she muttered.  
  
"Hmmm," I commented intelligently, as I went to work on removing her jeans. "I don't seeing you  
dealing with 'involuntary invisibility.'"  
  
That earned me a small laugh. "That would be far easier to deal with." Her fingers were playing  
with my hair. Who knew that just hands running through my hair could make my heart jump so high? It  
had never happened before.  
  
I had the jeans unbuttoned and felt her shift as she kicked off her shoes. She leaned over a bit  
and rubbed her face into my hair with a sigh. I slid her jeans down her hips revealing the purple  
scrap of cloth beneath and I had to swallow. Did she have any idea what this would do to me? I  
hooked one edge with a finger and tugged on it. "What is this?"  
  
"Silk," she answered.  
  
I had figured out that much on my own. It was also illegal in several southern states, I was quite  
sure. "Please tell me this isn't what you normally have under your clothes?"  
  
"Uh, huh. I like them," she said as sucked gently on my earlobe.  
  
So at work she'd have these under her clothes. Every day. "Ah, d... damn." I took a deep breath  
and returned to the damn lock-picking, my head leaning against her stomach. I had to run through  
the routine twice on two different locks, but when I looked up at her I knew that I hadn't done the  
disappearing act on her.  
  
"Imagery a bit too vivid, huh?" She was smiling at me.  
  
I watched her eyes as I slid her jeans past her hips until they fell to the floor with a soft thud.  
She pulled her feet loose and kicked them aside. And only then did I look to see what was revealed.  
Silk and lace, covering only what was absolutely necessary. I had to take a moment to make sure I  
stayed in control.  
  
Her hands came down to hover over my shoulders. I wanted her to touch me. To feel her hands glide  
softly across my skin, to make me shiver and squirm with her touch, but it was like she was afraid  
to. So instead of revealing what was barely hidden beneath that scrap of silk, I took one of her  
hands and moved it to rest on my chest. She resisted for a moment, then closed her eyes and  
swallowed. There was that tingle and then I heard music.  
  
"What?" I didn't recognized the song, but that didn't really matter.  
  
"Crap," she muttered and the sound faded. In its place I felt mild irritation wash over me, and  
that's when I realized what was going on.  
  
"Control issues, huh?" I tried to keep it light and she responded to it that way.  
  
"Yes. I still haven't quite mastered that control in certain situations. You'll feel everything I  
am as long as I'm touching you." Her other hand had moved to join the first. "And I'll pick up  
everything you're feeling."  
  
Her hands moved lower and she leaned down to kiss me. She was right -- I could feel her enjoyment,  
her pleasure, her need radiating from her. It was a new experience, and it gave me some small idea  
of what she lived with every day. Most of the time she avoided touching other people, especially  
strangers. On more than one occasion she had gotten more than she bargained for from a casual  
touch, and it made her wary. Hell, I knew she knew things about me that I had never directly told  
her and I hate to admit it did sometimes bother me. But not now. Now I was more than willing to  
experience whatever she was willing to share with me, and if I gave up a bit more than perhaps I  
should about what I was thinking or feeling, so be it.  
  
I leaned back onto the bed, bringing her with me. My hands drifted down to rest on her hips and,  
for some unmeasured length of time, I lost myself to the sensations, both hers and mine. I could  
feel what she wanted, what she was longing for, so I rolled so that she lay beneath me.  
  
"Is it always like this for you?" I asked against her throat. As soon as the words were out of my  
mouth, I regretted it. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.  
  
"No." Her voice was hushed, breathless. "Only with you."  
  
Only with me. I brushed my lips across hers and felt her heart jump beneath my hand, lying in the  
valley between her breasts. With light stokes, I teased her mouth with my tongue until she lay  
moaning beneath me. Eventually I had to give in to her need as well as my own and the teasing  
stopped, becoming far more serious, deeper, sensual. She had one hand buried in my hair and the  
other sliding up and down my back in seemingly random patterns.  
  
I gave her what she wanted, what we both wanted.  
  
Later, much later, I lay on my side looking down at her, amazed at both her and myself. I had  
managed to somehow maintain control over the gland, in a situation where control is most definitely  
not the goal. I tried to slow my breathing, knowing that I'd lost myself to her and not just for the  
night. I had discovered that I was just as addicted to this woman beneath me as I was to the  
counteragent. This night was going to be the first of many, if I had any say in the matter.  
  
I shifted slightly and ran my hand lazily across her stomach, feeling the muscles contract in  
reaction. She chose to be a smart-ass.  
  
"Well, you're still with us I see." Her hand came up to mangle my hair worse than it already was.  
  
I snagged her hand and kissed it. She blinked sleepily up at me. "Yup. Still here." I lay back and  
she moved to rest her head on my chest listening to my heart as it began to slow its rhythm. Before  
she could fall asleep, I got us rearranged and under the covers, knowing that although we felt warm  
enough now we wouldn't later. She curled back up against me with a sigh of pure contentment, her  
fingers tapping out a complicated pattern along my ribs.  
  
"Sleep, you. I'll still be here in the morning."  
  
Her hand stilled its random motions. I wondered why my statement caused her sudden reaction.  
  
"I hope so," she said quietly, her hand beginning to move again.  
  
Within minutes she was well on her way to a deep sleep, but I was still awake, not quite ready yet.  
I ran my hands through her hair, wondering what had changed her mind. What had brought her here  
tonight. What kept her from running away again.  
  
I chuckled. Picking locks. Only she could have thought of that. I yawned then, sleep finally taking  
notice of me. The morning, I decided. I'd ask her in the morning.  
  
  
  



	2. Travel Plans

  
  
Alyx  
  
It was about an hour before dawn when I climbed out of his bed, his warmth, his arms. I dressed  
quietly and then I watched him sleep for several long minutes, trying to memorize every last detail  
of his sleeping form. I realized that I could never complete that task, and eventually turned away.  
  
Writing on the back of an envelope, I asked him to take care of a few things for me. Specifically,  
my car and my apartment. It seemed a bit presumptuous on my part to ask, but who else was there?  
Besides, if I didn't return he could always keep them, and that wasn't so bad. On the counter next  
to the note I left my keys, cell phone, and pager. I wouldn't be needing them for a while. I knew  
when he found this in the morning he'd be angry and confused, or at least I hoped so. That sounds  
so awful, but even though I knew he had enjoyed himself last night, that didn't mean he'd have ever  
wanted to again.  
  
At some point tomorrow he'd find out the truth and know I was gone, probably for good. I knew he'd  
really get angry at me, think I had just used him for that 'cheap thrill' I kept saying I didn't  
want any part of. I could only hope he would understand someday. I walked over to the bed, leaned  
over, and kissed him lightly, not wanting to disturb his sleep. After everything that had happened,  
and everything that had yet to, I knew I would never regret this night.  
  
I left him then and, after grabbing my bags from the Jag, called a taxi for a ride to the airport.  
  
I functioned on auto-pilot all day. I noticed, but failed to  
appreciate, that the Agency had sprung for first class. People kept asking if I was all right. I  
either ignored them or answered something that seemed to satisfy them so they would go away.  
Although I'd had little sleep, I didn't really feel tired. I felt a bit melancholy, but also free  
in some weird way. Like I had finally done something right for a change. I reviewed the night  
before -- not analyzing, just remembering. Gods, I was going to miss him.  
  
It wasn't until we were landing in D.C. that I began to pay attention to the world around me again.  
As I disembarked the plane and exited into the terminal, some suit with a badge approached and asked  
me if I was me. Deciding to turn on the charm, I answered, "Last time I checked. Why, do you want me  
to be someone else?"  
  
This immediately flustered the suit, much to my amusement, and he started to babble. "Who told  
you.... They weren't..." Then he saw the look on my face and stopped. "You were joking, of  
course." He calmed himself and said, "Sorry. I'm Agent Dylan James. Your contact." He held out  
his hand for me to shake. I ignored it. I had no need to risk a head full of this stranger. Let him  
feel insulted if he wanted, I didn't much care.  
  
"Can we get my bags and get out of here?" I said, making sure he knew I was not the least bit happy  
about this situation. "I'd like to get this day over with."  
  
"This way," Agent James said, attempting to place a hand on my arm while directing me with his  
other. "Another agent is getting your bags, he'll meet us at the car."  
  
I side-stepped his hand, but followed him. "First thing," I said. He half turned to me as we  
walked. "Don't touch me." He gave me this offended look. "I was told you have full disclosure of  
what I can do?" He nodded. "Then lets just say touching me is potentially dangerous, and not to  
myself. Understand?"  
  
"Honestly, no," he answered. He opened the door to the outside where he led me to a ubiquitous  
black car and motioned for me to enter. Within moments, another agent appeared carrying my duffel  
and backpack, which he placed in the trunk. He then climbed into the driver's seat and started the  
car. As we pulled out into the joyous world of D.C. traffic I sighed. Agent James turned to me.  
"Was it a good flight?"  
  
"Look," I said, "how much longer is today going to go? I haven't really slept in over twenty-four  
hours. If you want me to be of any use, I need to get some sleep."  
  
"Tell you what," he replied. "It's a bit of a drive to your temporary residence; why don't you  
catch a nap. If you can give me a couple hours when we get there, I'll feed you."  
  
"Good enough," I said, shifting till I was reasonably comfortable. I stared out the window for a  
few minutes and drifted off into sleep.  
  
I awoke with a jerk at the blare of a car horn. Agent James moved to touch me, in reassurance I  
guess, then remembered what I had said. "Traffic," he said apologetically.  
  
I nodded, relaxing back into my seat. "How long was I out?" I asked, running my fingers through my  
hair.  
  
"Couple of hours. There was an accident on the beltway and traffic was backed up forever." He  
looked at me. "We're nearly there."  
  
I just looked back out the window, watching the darkened city flash past. The sun had set while I  
was sleeping, not that it mattered. I had no idea where I was and, in all honesty, I didn't really  
care. At least he hadn't lied; within minutes we pulled into a driveway and parked before what  
looked like someone's house. I was too tired to argue.  
  
Inside, Agent James escorted me upstairs to a suite of rooms. The house had apparently been broken  
up into executive apartments. The dining area was piled high with boxes -- I was afraid to ask what  
they contained. After tossing my bags in one of the two bedrooms, I freshened up and joined him in  
the living room. I said one word. "Food."  
  
"On its way," he confirmed. "Hope you like Chinese."  
  
"Don't know, I've never had one," I said. I had decided to try and make the best of this  
arrangement, however unwilling I was to be there.  
  
He gave me the strangest look, as if he thought I was serious.  
  
"It was a joke," I said. "Look, just tell me what I need to do. Being here is bad enough without  
having you stiff-necked suits staring at me." They were going to learn real fast that I was not a  
'by the book' agent and never would be.  
  
Agent James gave me the five sentence synopsis of what they wanted me to do. I just stood there,  
stunned. Then I sat down heavily in a chair. "You've got to be kidding," was all I could manage.  
  
Thankfully, the food arrived, delivered by the agent who had driven us earlier. I spent a few  
minutes eating, not because I was hungry -- my appetite had vanished for some reason -- but because  
I knew I needed to. I sipped at my drink. "You want me to protect and spy upon this guy, this king,  
so you all can have a foothold in what used to be the Soviet Union."  
  
"And marry," he repeated.  
  
I swallowed. "And marry. You have no idea what you're asking me to do." This was crazy. They were  
taking away what little life I had managed to find and wanted me to become someone else just to  
make sure their little game went the way they wanted. This was not something I had ever anticipated  
doing in my lifetime.  
  
"We were told you had all the skills necessary to complete the job, plus you're a dead-on match for  
his betrothed, who was recently kidnapped and killed," he said.  
  
"So I take her place while he consolidates his power, make sure he doesn't get offed, and feed  
intel back to you guys," I said. This job just felt wrong to me. I was supposed to be the good guy,  
right?  
  
"That pretty much sums it up. You're as good as they said," he answered, smiling.  
  
"You guys are idiots," I snarled. "I'm just about the worst person for this job." Six months I'd  
been doing this, six stinking months, and these guys thought I could just drop everything at their  
command. I'd rather deal with the Official and my cage, complete with exercise wheel.  
  
"I don't understand," he began, somewhat taken aback by my viciousness. "We were told you could  
learn the language and already had the martial skills to protect the King. They said three weeks  
would be plenty of time for you to learn the necessary protocol and routines you needed."  
  
I just looked at him in astonishment. "You really don't know what you're asking me to do, do you?"  
I began to pace the room. "I thought you said you had full disclosure regarding my abilities?"  
  
"I do. Your ability to learn languages and your fighting skills were foremost. Anything beyond that  
didn't seem to matter," he said.  
  
I burst out laughing. "I think you had better read the rest of my file before we go any further."   
I sat back down, still chuckling. This guy had no idea what he had in front of him, and I wasn't  
sure if he was lying or just plain stupid. I also wasn't sure which would be worse.  
  
I watched as he dug out my file from a box and began to really read it. At one point he looked at  
me sharply and turned pale.  
  
After a few minutes, he excused himself, and I could hear him talking to someone on the phone in  
another room. At one point he began to yell at whoever was on the other end, but quieted quickly.  
  
I was yawning and rubbing my eyes when he finally came back into the room. He had a look of  
irritation on his face, but he tried to smile at me. "It has been requested of me to apologize to  
you for an incident that took place in New England a few months ago, as well as a more recent one  
involving an Agent Stephen Morris. If I had realized that it was you..." He stopped. "You're  
obviously tired. Get some sleep and we'll deal with this in the morning." He turned and headed to  
the front entrance of the suite. I heard the door open and shut, leaving me alone.  
  
I was up early the next morning, wanting to go for a run. The suit standing outside my door was  
rather surprised to see me at oh five hundred, and blustered about it not being authorized. I told  
him what he could do with his authorization, in detailed and clinical wording, and took off on my  
run. After about ten minutes, a black car started pacing me. It was annoying but I put up with it,  
for a while anyway. Warmed up, I upped my pace, hitting my distance running stride. The car  
followed the rest of the run, staying a short distance behind me. I felt like I was in some stupid  
movie. I returned to the house just after oh six hundred, to find Agent James waiting for me in my  
suite.  
  
"Miss Silver, you really shouldn't have done that," he said.  
  
"Yes, I should have. And I will every morning I am here," I said, walking past him towards my room.  
I might be stuck here, but I was not going to be pushed around. If they wanted this to work, they  
would need my cooperation. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get dressed."  
  
That pretty much set the tone for the rest of my stay in D.C.  
  
  
  
Darien  
  
I actually wasn't surprised to find myself alone when I woke up. I mean, she sleeps less than I do.  
I know, obvious statement, but you know what I mean. She just doesn't sleep some days. Thanks to  
what they did to her, her sleep cycle is completely out of whack. I guess I should be pleased she  
fell asleep at all last night. Of course, I had done my best to tire her out. That caused a chuckle  
and several images to flash through my mind. Right now I was wishing she was here to join me in the  
shower. I sighed. Well, maybe not. We'd probably never make it in to work.  
  
As I staggered through my morning routine, I didn't notice anything unusual. Maybe I just didn't  
want to. It wasn't until I went outside to get my car that I noticed her Jag still sitting out  
front.  
Backtracking, I finally noticed her stuff sitting on my counter, and her note. What the devil was  
going on?  
  
Pocketing her keys, I decided to make a stop on the way in to the office. I mean, she did ask me to  
keep an eye on the place for her. As soon as I opened the door to her apartment, I knew she was  
gone. I didn't understand. If she was leaving, then what the hell was last night all about? You  
don't -- and these are her words, not mine -- spend all this time fighting the temptation thrown at  
you daily just to blow it all for a cheap thrill. Yet it seemed to be exactly what she had done.  
  
I know she wouldn't have left for no reason. The last time she'd taken off, it was because of her  
kids. I seriously didn't think the Official would be dumb enough to use that ploy again. She would  
hurt him. But I supposed it was possible.  
  
From there I went to work. I was late, as usual, but I didn't give them a chance to complain about  
it. As I stormed into the Official's office I demanded, "Where is she?"  
  
The abrupt question must have confused the Official, because he actually gave me an answer. "She's  
gone."  
  
"I figured out that much for myself. Where?" I asked, using the tone of voice I would for a small,  
less-than-intelligent child.  
  
"Reassigned. CIA," Eberts said.  
  
"How long?" This was not good. The CIA had been after the both of us for one reason or another for  
a while now. They'd wanted me since about the time the Chinese grabbed me, long before Alyx had  
arrived, and they'd been after her almost from the moment she'd come to the Agency.  
  
"Indefinitely," Eberts answered.  
  
"How about letting the one I'm asking answer?" I said to Eberts, getting irritated. At a guess, he  
was parroting what the Fat Man had told him to say. I wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth, so  
to speak.  
  
"Fawkes, Miss Silver is gone. Deal with it," the Official said. He didn't even bother to look up at  
me.  
  
"Deal with it? Deal with it?" I said, my voice rising with each word. "Dealing with her when she  
arrived was hard enough, and we finally got that worked out. Now you dump her to another agency.  
I'd really like to know why." I was now doing my best to loom over the Official, but he doesn't  
scare that easy.  
  
"I have my reasons," he said.  
  
Now where have I heard that before? "Fine," I said, irritated. "But this isn't over."  
  
"It is if you want counteragent," he snapped at me.  
  
That was a threat I was getting really tired of hearing.  
  
"If you want me scoring brownie points for this agency, you have no choice but to supply the  
counteragent," I shot back. Then I left the office, slamming the door behind me. I really didn't  
want to have to challenge him again. The last time I'd gone without counteragent for a long period,  
things had turned out rather badly. There were some experiences I just did not want to repeat.  
  
Oh, this day was going just fine. And it had started so well. Now, if I could just rewind it about  
eight hours and replay the tape a few dozen times, I'd be a contented cat-burglar.  
  
I decided to ask Claire what, if anything, she knew about Alyx being sent away. I knew she'd spent  
yesterday morning running assorted tests on Alyx. That wasn't really unusual, even though Alyx no  
longer needed a Keeper per se. Claire had become Alyx's doctor and was curious about her abilities;  
she could occasionally persuade Alyx to let her run some more tests. But the fact that Alyx was now  
gone made me a bit suspicious.  
  
"Good morning, Darien," she said as I entered her lab. "And how are we today?"  
  
I told her the truth. "Pissed off. What do you know about Alyx's new assignment?"  
  
"What, no 'Good morning Claire? Could you please give me restricted information about another  
agent?'" she said, turning towards me.  
  
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. I was not in the mood for the usual batch of  
crap that came with asking a simple question today. "Just tell me."  
  
"I gave her a physical. I believe she's leaving the country, but I don't know where to," Claire  
answered. "My understanding is that she won't be back."  
  
"Aw, crap," I said, killing my pose and sitting on a chair. I tipped my head back and stared at the  
ceiling.  
  
"Is there a problem?" she asked.  
  
I shook my head, not really sure. "I just didn't get to say goodbye, is all." No point in trying  
to explain; Claire wouldn't be all that sympathetic. She still hadn't let me forget the Allianora  
incident.  
  
"That doesn't sound like her," Claire mused. "You didn't see her before she left?"  
  
"Yeah, I did. She just didn't say goodbye."  
  
  
  
When my phone rang, it never once crossed my mind that it would be Alyx. She'd been gone for over a  
week, and I figured she must be in deep, wherever and whatever she was doing. I probably sounded  
irritated as I repeated my hello into the dead air on the phone. I was guessing it was Hobbes,  
checking up on me. When I heard Alyx say my name I couldn't believe it. I said the first thing that  
came to mind. "Alyx, where the hell are you?"  
  
Her voice sounded shaky, sad. "I can't say. I..."  
  
"What, Alyx?" I asked, hoping she'd answer. Hoping she'd say anything. I'd been angry at first that  
she hadn't told me what was going on, but it only took a couple of days to realize that she could  
have left without seeing me at all. At least I'd had one hell of a good-bye from her, even if I  
hadn't known it was good-bye at the time.  
  
"I'm sorry. I..." she began, and I heard a voice yelling in the background for her to hang up. I  
heard Alyx growl, anger evident in her voice, "Don't you dare." Then she focused back on me. I  
could almost feel her presence through the phone line. "I'm sorry Darien. I'm causing trouble as  
usual," she paused. "I have to go."  
  
I tried to keep her from hanging up. "Alyx, wait..." I shouted into the phone only to hear a click  
and dead air. I tried *69, but got a recording saying that the number was unavailable. I flung the  
phone across the room.  
  
No one would tell me what was going on. Well, Alyx had taught me a few things during the time we'd  
worked together; maybe I'd put them to some use.  
  
But things didn't go as I had planned. I showed up for work the next morning, not in the best frame  
of mind -- I was still trying to understand why she had called me last night only to not actually  
talk to me -- when the Official went at me like I had done something seriously wrong.  
  
"Fawkes, if Miss Silver contacts you again, you are to disconnect immediately," he practically  
roared.  
  
"Hey, she called me!" I snapped back at him.  
  
"Fawkes, you do not want to talk back to me today," the Official said in a low voice, and I got the  
message. Something was up. Something he wasn't happy about. "Do you understand? There is to be no  
unauthorized contact with Miss Silver."  
  
"I understand," I lied. If she called me again, I wasn't about to hang up on her...and what was  
with the 'unauthorized' comment? I didn't get the chance to find out, as Bobby came in just then.  
  
"You wanted to see me boss?" he asked as he slid into a chair.  
  
"Yes. We have been asked to assist another agency on a case," Eberts answered. "Their  
representative should be here momentarily."  
  
There was a knock on the office door and we turned to see who entered.  
  
"Jones," Hobbes snarled. Can you tell how fond Hobbes is of the man?  
  
"Tell me about it," Agent Jones from the FBI muttered. He was carrying several files and handed  
them to Eberts making a point to keep his distance from Hobbes. "This was not my idea, Hobbes. I'm  
under orders to work with you, since you guys apparently have some knowledge about this case."  
  
"As well as the access you need to make an attempt," the Official commented.  
  
"True," Jones agreed unhappily.  
  
I had been flipping through the file Eberts had handed to me, and a name rang a bell. "Isn't this  
one of the buyers from that slave ship?" The girl, Amber, who had been on the ship for a year, had  
provided lots of interesting information. In some ways more than the crew, who had been rather  
unwilling to talk to us. The only other real source of information had been from Briggs, the  
undercover agent we had rescued along with the girls they'd been transporting, but he hadn't known  
nearly enough.  
  
"Yes," Eberts agreed. "He is visiting Catalina in his yacht, and we believe a girl he purchased  
about eight months ago is on board. She was reported missing by her parents when she disappeared on  
their vacation to New Orleans."  
  
"So she wasn't a runaway like most of them?" Hobbes asked.  
  
The Official shook his head. "No, and her parents are rather powerful attorneys in their home  
state."  
  
"That explains the FBI's involvement," I said, continuing to go through the file. "But why do you  
need us?"  
  
"Department of Fish and Game handles the fishing permits for  
foreigners," Eberts explained. "If they decide there is a problem..."  
  
"Which there will be," the Official added.  
  
"Then we can get in and look for the girl," Bobby finished and I looked at him in surprise. Usually  
he didn't finish their sentences.  
  
"And since you guys are essentially the covert ops unit of the F and G, you get to help," Jones  
said with an unthrilled look on his face.  
  
"I expect you boys to play nice," the Official said with a chuckle.  
  
"Let me shoot him and we'll get along just fine," Hobbes said with a nasty look.  
  
I laughed while Hobbes was admonished by the Official. Hate to say this but I liked Jones just  
about as much as Hobbes did -- which is to say, not at all -- and Jones knew it. This was going to  
be so very much fun. Right.  
  
  
  
Alyx  
  
This week was getting very long. Language review, protocol, history, clothing fittings. You name  
it, I swear I did it. Mid-afternoon of day eight, I got irritated because the protocol and personal  
information I would need was being given to me bit by little bit. Finally I said, "Enough. Just give  
me the damn hard copy and give me an hour."  
  
Agent James cleared the room and handed me several files. "One hour," he said, and left.  
  
The files finally explained a few things that had been bothering me about this 'king' and his  
still-new country of Kanvia. Even though it bordered China, just south of Krygyzstan, the racial  
makeup of the people was heavily Caucasian and Slavic, and the language they spoke was far closer  
to Russian or Lithuanian than to those of their neighbors. Apparently a large group of refugees had  
fled from the Russian Empire several generations ago following some nameless uprising or invasion,  
and had settled in this remote part of central Asia. That explained the language's similarities to  
Russian, although changes had occurred over the years due to the influence of the pre-existing  
local peoples. The breakdown of the dialect described in the file included comparisons with the  
other languages in the area -- two of which I spoke -- making it easy enough for me to learn. Some  
of the variances I would absorb later as I delved deeper into the language, but most of them were  
fairly simple to figure out. A letter change or change of inflection. I'd catch on quick enough.  
  
When the Soviet Union broke up, the people in the region, like many others, decided they wanted to  
rule themselves. A dual war ended up being fought, one for territory with the neighboring  
countries, and one internally to determine who would ultimately gain control. Piotr Vallenchevski's  
father had won out in the end, but had been killed shortly after taking power, leaving Piotr to hold  
the shaky situation together. This marriage with Ariana Goranov had been arranged to solidify his  
power through alliance. She was the daughter of one of the ruling families in a neighboring  
country, so marrying her would have guaranteed that at least one border would remain secure.  
Unfortunately, she'd been killed a few months earlier. That was when the US contingent, led by  
Agent James, had volunteered to help. Ariana's death was kept secret, and James was instructed to  
find a double, a warm body to fill the role and keep a war from breaking out again.  
  
The US was getting concessions for this assistance in the form of a small military presence and the  
opportunity to use the border with China to spy on the Chinese government. Apparently this Piotr  
found it a worthwhile trade. I wasn't too sure I agreed with that, but you do what you have to, as  
I well knew by this point in my life.  
  
The whole lot of them came back in exactly one hour. I'd been sitting, mentally compiling the data,  
for a good ten minutes by then. I greeted them all in Ariana Goranov's native tongue, using  
proper protocol in greeting those below my rank. I gave an account of my 'family and life' in this  
obscure little country. Everyone except Agent James sat there stunned. I'd even managed to speak in  
the slightly lilting tone of voice she was supposed to have affected. Then I switched to the  
language spoken in Kanvia, where I was going to be living once this farce of a marriage took place.  
This one was a variant of Russian, which I already knew, but I fudged the words and made errors, as  
Ariana would have, since she had still been learning the language when she'd been killed. I gave a  
quick recitation about the history of the country and how Piotr had come into power. When I  
finished, I slouched back down into my chair and yawned.  
  
"So they were telling the truth about you," Agent James said.  
  
I shrugged. "I was told full disclosure, so I assume that's what you got. If you failed to believe  
it, that's your problem."  
  
He watched me, with eyes gone dangerous, then sent everyone home for the day. Usually they stayed  
till nine or ten at night, drilling me. He continued to watch me as they cleared out of the suite.  
I just sat in the chair sideways, legs over one side and head hanging backwards over the other,  
staring at the ceiling. Yup, just like a bored teenager. I was feeling pissy, and had decided to go  
with my apparent age and hormones.  
  
"So, what exactly can you do?" he asked after a few minutes.  
  
Without changing my position I flicked the lights on and off, lifted the table off the floor and  
turned invisible. *Good enough?* I asked in his mind.  
  
His reaction was comical. He jumped out of his chair and looked around wildly. I lowered the table  
and stopped playing with the lights. Allowing the quicksilver to fall from my body, I laughed.  
  
"I wish I had a camera," I said when I finally regained control. This had been the most amusing  
thing to happen to me in ages. These people took stuff way too seriously.  
  
"They were serious about all of it," he said in astonishment.  
  
I just swung my legs and stared at the ceiling some more. Then he managed to surprise me. "You want  
to get out of here?"  
  
I sat up. Except for my morning runs, this suite had been my  
existence. "What did you have in mind?" I asked, curious. I really did need the break, especially  
with my life about to be turned inside out yet again.  
  
"Dinner, maybe a club. The usual," he said.  
  
"The usual. You don't know my usual, Agent James," I responded. That was putting it mildly. My  
usual was rarely more exciting than some music and a workout. A good night involved a new book to  
read.  
  
"I'll pick you up at six. Wear something nice," he said.  
  
"What, sweats and a tank top won't do?" I commented gesturing at my current ensemble. With all the  
clothing fittings, it turned out to be the easiest outfit to work with.  
  
Much to my surprise he walked right up to me. "It would be just fine with me, Miss Silver. Just  
fine."  
  
I felt my eyebrows rise at his tone of voice. "Oh. Perhaps I can scrounge something up from all the  
crap you guys have been delivering."  
  
"Good," he said. "Six sharp."  
  
I just waved him away. After the door had shut, I leaned back again, letting my head fall till the  
world was inverted. Gods, I wanted out of this. I wanted to be back in my apartment, fighting with  
Hobbes over some piece of idiocy, arguing with the Official over some job, playing poker with  
Claire. Just seeing Darien. I looked over at the phone and for the thousandth time I considered  
calling. I even went so far as to pick it up and dial, but I hung up before it connected. I cursed  
myself, the Agency, the Feds, the gods. It didn't help.  
  
I showered, pretended to do something with my hair, and went hunting for a dress. I couldn't  
believe the stuff they had in here. Not one piece of leather. No fun, no fun at all.  
  
I settled on a sleeveless, black, backless number -- and by backless I mean that any lower and they  
would know the color of my g-string, if I was wearing one. The skirt came down to about my knees but  
was loose enough that I could do a side kick without tearing it. I then found a pair of black heels  
and slipped them on. I would have preferred flats, but figured I could take them off if the  
situation called for it. Besides, heels were good for breaking toes. A matching black handbag was  
with them. I transferred my essential things to it -- cash, credit, and ID.  
  
When I looked in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. I didn't like that at all.  
  
I was staring out the living room window when Agent James arrived, thinking about the things I  
would much rather be doing right at this moment. He cleared his throat when I didn't respond to my  
name. I looked over my shoulder at him and then back out the window. I watched his reflection  
approach and then stop behind me.  
  
"You look lovely," he said quietly.  
  
"Thank you," I replied, my voice flat. His opinion didn't count for a whole lot at the moment.  
  
"Hmm...I'm feeling under-appreciated right about now," he commented, smiling.  
  
"That's nice," I said distractedly. Then I returned my focus to the present. "We ready to go?"  
  
After giving me a somewhat confused look, he answered. "Sure. Let's go."  
  
About halfway through the dinner, which I barely remembered ordering and had barely eaten, I  
asked, "So who's this guy I'm betrothed to? I'm betting mid-fifties, balding, and a paunch he  
tries to hide."  
  
"Try twenty-two, blonde, blue eyed." He reached into a pocket and handed me a photo. Even taking  
into account that it was a publicity shot, the guy was gorgeous -- not my type, but gorgeous. Agent  
James then handed me a second photo and I stared at my own face, with dark blue eyes and dark brown  
hair. The resemblance was uncanny.  
  
"Piotr Vallenchevski and Ariana Goranov." He gestured at the photos. "I've been wondering when  
you'd ask."  
  
I shrugged and handed back the photos. "Didn't really seem important. It's not as if I could say  
no."  
  
"True. But most people would be at least a little curious."  
  
"Could we just say I'm not most people and leave it at that?" Suddenly I was suspicious. I'd made  
a point of keeping my shields tight around these people; the gods only knew what secrets they hid.  
"What's going on?"  
  
At first it looked like he was going to try to avoid answering, but one look at me seemed to  
convince him it was better to spill. "The time table has been moved up. Final adjustments to your  
looks tomorrow and we ship out the next day. Your wedding is in four days."  
  
The lamp on the table burst startling the both of us. For a change it hadn't been my fault just  
weird timing. Appropriate somehow, weird timing seemed to be the story of my life lately.  
  
I had Agent James take me home. Well, back to the apartment anyway. Home, the place that had become  
home, was looking to be further and further out of my grasp every day. He tried to convince me that  
I should stay out, one last chance at some fun before my life got thrown topsy-turvy yet again. I  
ignored his look of disappointment.  
  
At the suite, while saying good night, he touched me and I got a mental flash from him. Sometimes,  
no matter how tight I shield, I get images and emotions, usually because it's something I need to  
know. I didn't need to know this. Agent James was very attracted to me, and there was no way in  
hell I could return those feelings, even if I wanted to.  
  
I managed to get him out the door, finally. He really wanted to stay. Poor fool. I went into the  
bedroom and stripped, throwing the dress away, then tossed on a robe and sat on my bed. Gone, I  
thought. I undid my hair, letting it fall down past my shoulders. Tomorrow it would be brown  
instead of its vivid red, my eyes would go from their brilliant silver to dark blue. I would become  
someone else, again. I didn't want to do this. It had taken me long enough to accept the image  
facing me in the mirror now. I wasn't sure I could deal with it changing again.  
  
Upset, angry, and lonely, I decided I had to do something. One last night of freedom, for myself. I  
picked up the phone and dialed Darien's number. I'll admit I was hoping to get the machine -- I was  
just going to leave a message, say goodbye, say sorry, say gods knew what, but I'd figure it out.  
My luck was not with me today, though; instead of his machine, he answered on the third ring. At  
his hello, I froze, my mouth going dry. I didn't think it would hurt this much. His second 'hello'  
was filled with irritation. I took a deep breath. "Darien," was all I could get out.  
  
"Alyx, where the hell are you?" he asked.  
  
"I can't say," I managed. "I..." I hadn't realized it would be this hard. There were so many  
things I wanted, needed to say, and I couldn't get a single one past the lump that had formed in my  
throat.  
  
"What Alyx?" He sounded concerned.  
  
"I'm sorry. I..." I was saying, wanting to apologize for leaving with no explanation, when Agent  
James burst into the room and yelled.  
  
"Hang up, now!" He crossed the room and moved to take the phone out of my hand.  
  
I made his hand stop in mid-motion, which surprised the hell out of him. "Don't you dare," I  
growled. Focusing back on the phone, I said, "I'm sorry Darien. I'm causing trouble as usual. I  
have to go." As I hung up the phone I heard his voice shouting, "Alyx, wait..." but I didn't let  
it stop me. I turned to face Agent James, releasing his arm which he had been struggling to free  
from my grip. Two other Agents had come in behind him, guns drawn.  
  
"Oh, put the toys away and get out," I said in exasperation. I then flopped back on the bed and  
tried to stare through the ceiling. I guess he sent the others away, because the next thing I knew  
he was sitting on the edge of the bed saying my name. I tried to ignore him. All I wanted to hear  
was Darien's voice, and not across a phone line. I wanted to hear it whispering in my ear.  
Preferably just before he kissed said ear. Agent James' voice intruded on my wishful thinking.  
  
"What do you want?" I asked irritated.  
  
"Why did you break protocol?" he asked, seemingly as irritated as I.  
  
"What are you talking about?" I was beyond irritated at this point.  
  
"No phone calls, especially to your former colleagues," he said.  
  
"First, you NEVER told me no phone calls. Second, he is my partner and my friend and I wanted to  
say goodbye," I said sitting up.  
  
"Never told you? It's SOP for something like this," he practically yelled in my face.  
  
"I don't work for the CIA, or whoever you really are, so how would I know SOP? And yes, never told  
me." I tapped my temple. "Perfect memory."  
  
"Shit," he said.  
  
"Would you just leave?" I said. I hurt enough without having to deal with him and what he thought  
he wanted. The luck goddess was apparently busy elsewhere.  
  
"Are you sure you want me to?" he asked.  
  
I looked at him in astonishment. "Why would you even ask me that?"  
  
"We'll be working together for a while. I'll be your contact at the American Consulate there and  
I'll be an adviser of sorts to His Majesty," he said.  
  
His meaning was blatantly obvious, and it disgusted me. "I'll also be married to the man," I stated  
flatly.  
  
"A loveless marriage. Company could make you're time easier." He laid a hand lightly on my leg and  
began to slide it up and under my robe.  
  
I didn't warn, I simply acted. After my experience with the slavers, no one was going to take  
advantage of me that way ever again. I picked him up by the throat with my mind and carried him out  
of my room. The two other Agents were still there, and when they saw the situation they drew their  
guns again. Not in the mood, I simply yanked them out of their hands and stuck them to the ceiling.  
I dropped Agent James and watched him as he coughed and gasped and tried to catch his breath. "Stay  
away from me," I said. "I will do the damn job, but stay out of my way."  
  
I turned and went back to the bedroom. I left the guns on the ceiling. Even if they climbed up to  
them they wouldn't be able to move them until I decided they could. I lay on the bed. It was going  
to be a long night.  
  
  
  



	3. Meeting New People

  
  
Assume that Alyx is speaking to Piotr and Vasily in their native tongue, Kanvian, unless otherwise marked.  
  
Darien  
  
Catalina was nice, quiet, peaceful, and dead boring. I was quickly going stir crazy waiting for the  
damn yacht to return to port so that we could search it. Hobbes was taking it all in stride,  
however. He was joyfully hitting on all the pretty women who wandered by and pretending to fish off  
the dock we had staked out.  
  
We had a plan and everything, but we couldn't do a damn thing until the boat showed up. Apparently  
we couldn't go out after them for some asinine reason. So far we'd been here four days doing  
nothing but working on our tans and not catching any fish.  
  
I was swiftly running out of patience, because of the near-constant bickering between Hobbes and  
Jones, and time. I needed a shot within the next day or so or I was going to be getting really  
cranky really fast. If the damn boat showed right now, me and the gland would be real useless.  
  
"Hobbes, is there any chance you have some counteragent along?" I kept my voice bland, staring out  
over the water through my sunglasses.  
  
He sighed. "Don't tell me you've been playing Houdini in the bar again?"  
  
I shook my head. He still wouldn't let me forget that one. It had been a lot of fun though, even  
worth the headache and the royal ass chewing I had gotten from the Keeper the next day. "No. I've  
been good. It's just about time for my shot is all."  
  
"How far?" He asked after a moments thought.  
  
"If the boat showed now, I'd have maybe ten minutes," I answered, wondering if he was going to  
bitch because I hadn't thought to mention it sooner.  
  
He muttered something under his breath that I didn't catch and then aloud, "No, damn it. The Keep  
has decreed -- no kid, no counteragent."  
  
Well, that was brilliant. Alyx gets sent away to who knows where and I lose my back-up Keeper.  
Okay, so I was losing a lot more than just that. I hadn't realized how much until recently. "Better  
call Claire and have her join us, because not only am I going to need one before, I'm probably going  
to need one after."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Hobbes shook his head. He didn't understand it any more than I did. "Why did the  
fat bastard have to get rid of her now?" he griped to the sky, but then he pulled out his cell  
phone and made the call.  
  
While he was making nice and a few passes at Claire, the radio that sat between us came to life.  
"Fawkes, Hobbes, pick up." Jones' voice came through only slightly static-laden.  
  
I picked it up without any enthusiasm. "What now, Jones?" The guy had taken to radioing us just to  
piss off Hobbes, and I was getting really tired of it. It's hard to sleep when the radio goes of  
every thirty minutes just because Jones and Hobbes have a feud going on.  
  
"We have heard that the boat is due in tomorrow. Meet us at the room at eighteen hundred. We need  
to go over the plan again," Jones said in a flat tone of voice. He was treating us like we were  
unwelcome family members that had come to stay unexpectedly. Without us, this little  
investigation wouldn't happen. And he knew it.  
  
"We'll be there," I said and turned off the radio, not caring if he had anything else to say.  
  
I turned to Hobbes who nodded at me. "She'll be here in few hours with what we need."  
  
"Good, 'cause we have a dinner date with Jones," I said with a smile. Hobbes groaned.  
  
I laughed. Might as well enjoy ourselves while we could. The real work would be here soon enough  
and we wouldn't have time.  
  
The meeting with Jones and his guys went about as well as could be expected. He and Hobbes didn't  
kill each other; that was the only good point. They argued, they screamed, they threw insults, they  
did everything but come to blows . We were saved by Claire's arrival. Well, I was. I escorted her to  
the room I was sharing with Hobbes.  
  
"I take it things aren't going well with Agent Jones?" Claire asked me as she prepared the shot.  
  
"They're both still alive. That's about as good as one can expect," I commented as she finished  
prepping everything. "Sorry to drag you out here."  
  
"Darien, it is my job." As gently as possible, she injected the contents of the syringe into my  
arm. "I don't mind, really."  
  
"Then why bother training Alyx to do this if she was leaving?" I asked her as she completed the  
task and moved back across the room.  
  
"She had been helping with my research," Claire said softly. "She offered to act as a back up so  
that you guys could travel a bit more safely."  
  
I was a bit stunned. After our last mission I knew something was going on down in the Keep, but I  
had no clue as to what. I never would have guessed anything like this. "Helping? How?" I pulled a  
leg up onto the bed and wrapped my arms about it.  
  
Claire turned back to me. "Doesn't matter now." She came back over and sat beside me. "You doing  
okay?"  
  
I got to my feet. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" I walked towards the door of the room. "I better go  
save Jones from Bobby."  
  
"Darien, from what I understand the Official was forced into this. He did not let her go  
willingly," Claire said. I paused with my hand on the door.  
  
"And how does that change anything?" I didn't even turn to look at her, just opened the door and  
left her standing there, wondering what exactly had gone on between the two of us.  
  
Instead of heading back to Jones' room, I headed out to the docks. I was a bit irritated that Alyx  
had been brought up at all, even though I had been the one to do it. I didn't want to think about  
it, about her. She was gone. It was over. I leaned against one of the posts. Then why the hell did  
it still bother me?  
  
  
  
"That the boat?" I asked, pointing at the monster that was slowly making it way to its slip. It was  
huge.  
  
"Yeah, that's it." Hobbes was watching the boat through a pair of binoculars.  
  
"Hobbes, there is no way I can search that entire ship. Not in the time I have," I commented. It  
was true. If I went in with an IV hooked up to keep the counteragent flowing it would still take me  
hours to search the entire yacht.  
  
"Well the girl isn't likely to be down with the engines or in the crew quarters I don't think.  
She'd probably be in the staterooms or living areas." Hobbes lowered the glasses. "The kid was damn  
brave to do what she did."  
  
I knew he was no longer talking about the kidnapped girl, but about Alyx.  
  
"Where is that infamous partner of yours anyway?" Jones asked from nearby. "Heard she was making  
quite an impression with a few agencies."  
  
"Reassigned," Hobbes answered.  
  
"Shame. I was looking forward to finding out exactly how she was impressing them. Was she going all  
the way or just giving samples?" Jones said in a bland voice.  
  
Both Hobbes and I went after him.  
  
It was Bobby who got the punch in that dumped Jones on his ass. I was rather surprised. Didn't  
think Bobby would bother to defend her, especially now that she was gone.  
  
"What's the matter Bobby-boy, you didn't get any?" Jones said as he lay sprawled on the dock.  
  
Not the best of moves. Even I could tell Bobby was pissed. I placed a hand on his chest to keep him  
from doing more damage. Bobby actually gave a damn about his job; I couldn't let him toss it away  
over someone who no longer needed to be defended.  
  
"Jones," I said. "I would suggest you shut up before you find yourself swimming."  
  
Jones got to his feet and spat blood out of his mouth. "Hobbes wouldn't dare."  
  
I couldn't help myself. I was pissed off, upset, and generally angry at the world. I took two steps  
forward and shoved the bastard off the dock into the water. He came up spluttering and coughing.  
  
"I would," I snapped at him.  
  
"Way to go, Fawkes," Hobbes said, patting me on the back.  
  
I shrugged. "He deserved it." And it would get me into a lot less trouble than killing him.  
  
Jones pulled himself out of the water and snarled, "I'll have your ass fired for this, Fawkes."  
  
"I wish you would Jones," I replied with a smile. When he saw neither Hobbes nor I cared, he  
stormed off -- to change clothes, I presumed. Once he was gone, I turned to Hobbes. "Will the Fat  
Man care?"  
  
Hobbes shook his head. "Nah. At least not if we rescue the girl." He looked over at the yacht  
again. "Let's move. Jones can find us."  
  
We made our way closer to the restricted docking area and watched as the boat was tied up and the  
gangplank lowered. A few members of the crew came ashore and headed for a car in the nearby parking  
lot. A bit of a crowd had developed just to look at the ship; it was very impressive and obviously  
owned by someone who had more money than most third world countries.  
  
Hobbes had been checking out the boat through the binoculars again. "Fawkes, the owner's cabin will  
probably be up in the bow. Furthest from the engines. Top two levels will have the majority of the  
living areas. Bedrooms towards the front. Dining rooms and lounges further back. Crew quarters will  
be on the lower levels and closer to the engines." He paused for several minutes looking over the  
boat some more. "There are probably two kitchens. The main one for the owner and the crew kitchen  
down below. Plus freezers and storage for both."  
  
There was a lot of ship to cover. "Where would he be keeping her?" I wanted to get in and out as  
swiftly as possible with the girl, or at least with the knowledge she was never on board.  
  
"I see two possibilities. Either he'll keep her close to him -- his cabin or one nearby -- or he'll  
be hiding her down in the crew area." Hobbes lowered the glasses to look at me. "What do you think?"  
  
Him asking me? I really looked over the ship now. Noted the excessive use of frills. Things that  
could be easily damaged, and probably were quite often. The gold trim, the mahogany wood for  
decoration. The obvious overindulgence in comfort and beauty. The ship proclaimed, 'I'm rich and I  
want you to know it.' I'd love the chance to rob it.  
  
"He'll keep her nearby. He flaunts his wealth and his prizes, and I'm betting he considers her a  
prize," I answered turning to look at him. "She might even be with him when we go on board."  
  
Hobbes nodded. "Not a bad assessment."  
  
Jones showed then, so I didn't get time to enjoy the fact that I had impressed Hobbes. A rarity,  
though it had been happening more and more often. Jones was dressed in a new suit and was  
accompanied by the four agents who'd come with him. He glared at us as he spoke. "We need to move  
on this now." He held out his hand and the necessary paperwork was handed to him by one of the  
suits. "We found out they're planning to refuel, restock, and then leave."  
  
"All right, Jones. We're ready." The entire group of us made our way to the guarded entrance for  
the dock. After a few minutes of discussion, and some badge waving by Hobbes, we were in and  
walking to the boat. The Captain, not the owner, of the yacht met us at the top of the gangplank  
and made us go through the entire routine of explaining why we were there and very carefully read  
over the papers we had. He eventually conceded that we did indeed have the right to search the ship  
for illegal catch. We were escorted down to the main kitchen and from there several of the suits  
were then taken to the crew kitchen to check there. I had a sudden thought.  
  
"What about the cabins, or lounges?" I asked the gentleman escorting us.  
  
"What about them?" he snapped at me. He was cooperating by doing the minimum possible to help.  
  
"Are there refrigerators in any of them?" Hobbes had turned to look at me as if thinking I was  
going to screw this up.  
  
The crewman frowned. "Yes, why?"  
  
Hobbes caught on just then. "Because we have to search..." he quoted from the warrant. "'Any place  
where the fish could be stored or preserved.'"  
  
The crewman ground his teeth in frustration. "It will be a few minutes for me to arrange an escort."  
  
"No need," I said. "I think I can find them on my own." Before he could protest, I walked away and  
got out of the kitchen. After a moment to orient, I headed for where the cabins should be and began  
to search for the girl.  
  
It was only minutes before I heard someone coming after me to baby-sit and keep me out of trouble.  
Right. Keep me out of trouble. More likely to cause me trouble of the pain-filled kind. I  
quicksilvered and watched him walk past, grumbling under his breath. I also noticed the gun he had  
stuffed into the back of his pants. I reminded myself yet again to be careful. Even though I had  
the advantage of being invisible, I was still mortal and that bullet would kill me just as dead,  
quicksilver or no quicksilver.  
  
As I went from room to room I wished Alyx was here. She probably could have pinpointed the girl's  
location, greatly reducing search time. I passed the guy looking for me a couple more times and  
noticed his increasing agitation. There was something being hidden down here, that was for sure.  
  
When I did find the girl I wasn't that all that surprised by her location. She was in a small room  
off of what had to be the owner's cabin. The owner was not in the room at the time, thankfully. Her  
room was all interior, with no windows and only the one door, which was locked. After a quick look  
for cameras, I desilvered and went to my knees as I got out the lock picks. In moments I had the  
door open.  
  
"Laney?" I called out softly, not wanting to frighten the girl.  
  
She was sitting on the bed, looking at me in surprise and fear.  
  
"Laney Goddard?" I asked again, moving towards her.  
  
She nodded, still looking at me fearfully.  
  
"My name is Darien. I'm here to take you home." Much to my surprise she launched herself at me and  
held me in a death grip of a hug. Then she burst into tears. "Easy," I said holding her. "We need to  
get you off the boat first. Can you calm down for me?"  
  
After a few shuddering breaths, she stood back a bit and nodded. "I can do it." Her voice sounded  
odd, but I let it pass for the moment.  
  
"Good." I took her hand in mine and led her out of her room into the owner's suite. Opening the  
door to the hall, I was not thrilled to see several crewmen out there discussing something. Two of  
them had guns. They finally made a decision and came towards the room. I pulled Laney close and put  
my finger to my lips and she nodded. With a breath to clear my head I let the quicksilver flow over  
both of us. We watched as the crewmen came in and discovered her gone. I could feel her shaking in  
terror, at both the men in the room and what I was doing to the both of us, but she held it  
together and never made a sound.  
  
One of the crewmen made a call and then they left, to search the ship more I figured. As soon as  
they were gone, I desilvered us and checked my wrist. I was still okay for now, but should probably  
wait to use more and only if necessary. "You okay?"  
  
She nodded then cocked her head to the side as if listening to something. It reminded me eerily of  
Alyx. "Engines," she said. "They've started."  
  
I had some trouble understanding her at first, but I figured it out after a moment. "Aw, crap." I  
looked about. "Do you know an inconspicuous way to get topside?"  
  
She nodded and took my hand to lead the way. I guessed this was a private route for the owner, or  
maybe his personal servants since it had access to several other rooms such as the kitchen and  
linen storage areas. By the time we made it to the door that led to the deck we were well away from  
the dock. I turned to her. "Can you swim?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Good. I'm going to do that weird thing again to keep them from seeing us." I looked at her, and  
although she looked scared she nodded again. "When I open the door, run for the rail and jump for  
it, okay?"  
  
She thought about it and then shrugged. "If it gets me home, anything."  
  
I chuckled. I had only a vague idea of what she had gone through, but I was impressed by how brave  
she was being. I reached out and lay a hand on her shoulder and called on the quicksilver yet  
again. This was going to max me for the day. I gave her shoulder a squeeze and then shoved open the  
door. Several crewmen spun about and came towards the door, but thankfully we couldn't be seen.  
Laney took off at a run and jumped over the rail, after taking only the time to look over and make  
sure it was clear below. I was right behind her. On the way down the quicksilver flaked away and we  
fell amongst the shimmering silver into the water below.  
  
The crewmen must have heard the splash because when I surfaced they were leaning over the side  
shouting and aiming their guns at us. I swam over to where Laney had come spluttering to the  
surface and tried to support her a bit as we swam away from the ship. Then they began to fire at  
us. I placed myself between Laney and the shooters and said. "Go under as deep and for as long as  
you can."  
  
She took a deep breath and did so, and I followed suit a moment later. I could hear the bullets  
impacting the water as I swam down and away from the boat. Neither of us could stay down for long,  
but we had gained some distance when we came up. The boat had gained speed and was still pulling  
away from us and within moments we were out of reasonable range.  
  
I moved closer to Laney, who was looking a bit tired. "You okay?"  
  
"Okay," she said to me. "Thank you."  
  
I was about to tell her not to thank me when a shout caught my attention. "Fawkes!"  
  
Spinning in the water I saw Hobbes on one of those harbor patrol boats. "Hobbsey. Good of you to  
come," I said as they pulled alongside of us. Minutes later we were in the boat, wrapped in  
blankets and on our way back to shore.  
  
  
  
Several hours later, Hobbes came back into the room grinning like kid at Christmas who just got his  
ultimate gift. "We got him, Fawkes. Not only for having the kid, but for smuggling drugs and having  
illegal catch."  
  
I nodded. "Good. The bastard deserves everything he gets and more." I was tired and angry at this  
point. Claire had been in a few minutes ago to give me my shot and let me know how Laney was doing.  
  
"She's going home, Fawkes. That's the important thing," Hobbes said, trying to make me feel better  
about the situation. "Her parents will be here in the morning, and then we head home ourselves."  
  
"I know, but... That guy is sick. No punishment can be enough," I growled at him.  
  
"Agreed, but it's out of our hands now. He'll get what he deserves, and he'll never do this to  
anyone else again." Hobbes got up and headed for the door. "You coming for dinner?"  
  
I nodded. "I'll be there in a couple of minutes." I watched him walk out of the room and sighed. I  
had asked Claire about Laney and she had told me the girl was doing very well, considering.  
  
You see, it turned out that Laney's speech problem was not natural. At some point the monster had  
cut off part of her tongue to teach her a lesson.  
  
I hoped the bastard would indeed get exactly what he deserved.  
  
  
  
Alyx   
  
"And do you, Ariana Goranov, take this man, Piotr Vallenchevski, to be your lawfully wedded  
husband?" The priest spoke in the variant Russian they spoke here in Kanvia.  
  
"I do," I answered in the same language.  
  
I let the ceremony wash over me. I knew what to say and when, and did so. I watched this young man,  
this king, Piotr, through my heavy veil. We had not met before today, and still hadn't, really. He  
had a wry smile on his face, and I wondered what he was thinking. Here he was, marrying a complete  
stranger -- not even his true betrothed, but a substitute he had agreed to for the sake of his  
country. I had yet to decide if he was brave or a fool. Time would tell, I supposed.  
  
I started paying attention again in time to hear the kiss the bride bit. Piotr lifted my veil and  
smiled, really smiled, as if pleasantly surprised by what he found. Placing his hands gently on my  
bare shoulders, he leaned in and kissed me. It was more than just a chaste kiss, but didn't go  
outrageously too far. Just right, I thought. As he pulled back he whispered, "Thank you."  
  
Joining hands, we turned to the congregation and were proclaimed husband and wife, King and Queen.  
Just think, me a queen. Mom would be so proud.  
  
Sheesh.  
  
The reception was long and interesting. After being formally introduced to the room, we did the  
usual receiving line -- okay so it took two hours, but we did it. It was a weird way to meet the  
President of the US, that's for sure. I guess it was a good thing no one had told me who was on the  
guest list. Presidents, Premiers, Queens -- you name it, I met it, or its official representatives.  
The Royal Guard hovered over us, along with the Secret Service from the US. Agent James and his  
goons hovered around the edges of the room.  
  
When we were finally escorted to our seats, I leaned over to my husband -- husband, I had never  
planned on having another one of those -- and whispered in his ear. "Am I to just sit and look  
pretty or am I allowed to use my brain?" I asked with a slight smile.  
  
He placed a hand on my cheek and gave me a gentle kiss, much to the amusement of the guests, who  
cheered. "Since it is obvious that you have brain, I would suggest you use it."  
  
"A man of intelligence," I said, looking him in the eyes. And what pretty eyes they were. "And  
perhaps other languages?"  
  
"Perhaps," he answered in German.  
  
"Ah, a cultured man," I replied in the same language. This might turn out to be easier than I  
thought.  
  
"You are most definitely not what I expected," he commented as he pulled back from me to once again  
face the guests.  
  
"You have no idea," I said quietly.  
  
He chuckled.  
  
"Would you take some advice from your new bride?" I asked, as I raised my glass to my lips.  
  
"If the advice is worthy," he answered. The poor boy was coming across as a bit confused. I think  
he was expecting no more than just a face that filled the immediate need. Instead he got me.  
  
I sipped the champagne, enjoying its taste. How often was I going to get to drink  
two-thousand-dollar-a-bottle champagne? Placing the glass back on the table I dipped a finger into  
the liquid and then ran it around the edge of the glass producing a lovely A minor. "Do not trust  
Agent Dylan James."  
  
Stilling my hand with his own, he leaned closer. "And why is that?"  
  
"You'd not believe the number of bugs he had sewn into this gown," I replied. I hadn't been  
thrilled to find them myself. I was liking James less and less every day, and my opinion hadn't  
been all that high to begin with.  
  
His eyebrows went up.  
  
"Don't worry, they don't work any more. Some people just lack subtlety," I said squeezing his hand  
gently.  
  
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, an amused look in his eyes. "My dear, you are most  
surprising."  
  
"I am most bored," I replied, smiling back at him. And I had thought my first wedding was bad. This  
was so much worse, as well as so much more ostentatious. To be expected, given who I was marrying,  
but still... It was just too much.  
  
"Yes, I imagine you are. We need only endure another hour; then we may leave, protocol met." He  
leaned in close. "I believe the time will be far more enjoyable than I had thought."  
  
"You are far too kind. By the way, don't drink the champagne. It's poisoned." I planned on doing  
my job, but my way. I knew not to trust Agent James; he truly made my skin crawl. But the man I sat  
next to now was different. He really was a good man, and I decided then and there to help him any  
way I could.  
  
He froze in place, much to my amazement. I had expected him to jerk away. I brought my hand up to  
his cheek, caressing it.  
  
"How do you know this?" he asked quietly.  
  
"A very good sense of smell," I replied. He needed to learn to trust me if this was going to work.  
  
"Ah." He pulled back from me and I lowered my hand to the table.  
  
At a subtle hand signal, one of the Royal Guard appeared.  
  
I watched over the crowd before us as the Guardsman efficiently removed the offending glass and  
took it to parts unknown. I could feel the anger radiating off of him. I placed my hand over his.  
Reverting to his language, I said. "Be calm Milord. 'Tis your wedding day, after all." I leaned in  
closer. "You must not let them see you disturbed."  
  
"True. You are, of course, correct," he said quietly.  
  
For the next hour, we chatted quietly, greeted those who came up to us, performed the obligatory  
first dance. All the usual crud. Weddings tend to be boring for the wedded, and state weddings are  
the worst. We finally left, cheers following us as the Royal Guard escorted us to Piotr's suite in  
the palace. Okay, so it was really just a fancy country house, but considering what his country had  
just gone through it would do for the seat of power.  
  
There we were in the Royal bedroom, so to speak. I walked up to him and whispered romantically,  
"The rooms are bugged, would you like me to deactivate them?"  
  
Although he looked angry, he laughed as if I had said something wonderful. "If you please. On this  
night, at least, we should have some peace."  
  
I nodded to him. Feeling irritated, I mentally searched out the various bugs and sent power surges  
to each, blowing out their systems. I had kept my eyes open during this process, and when I  
refocused Piotr was looking at me strangely. I had forgotten again that my eyes tend to glow when I  
do this stuff. Hey, it's not like I watch myself in the mirror when I do this. "Done. We can talk  
now."  
  
He began to unbutton his formal surcoat and I moved over to help. "So, who is she?" I asked  
quietly. Not that I really needed to know, but it would be good to know who I was going to be  
pissing off. I wanted no part of being hunted down by the jealous girlfriend because of a part I  
had to play.  
  
He stiffened. "What do you mean?"  
  
I removed the jacket and laid it over the back of a chair. "You are a sweet boy, but I can tell you  
are in love with someone. And I know for sure it isn't me."  
  
"I will do my duty," he said, getting huffy.  
  
"Don't treat me like a fool," I commented. "As you said at the reception, I'm not what you  
expected. Do you think I'll be angry?"  
  
"I'm not sure what to think." He sat down in the chair.  
  
I reached up and began pulling out hairpins. It took a couple of minutes, but I finally managed to  
free myself from the veil. I tossed it on the sofa nearby and then worked on freeing my hair. When  
it finally fell free and I was able to run my hands through it, I sighed.  
  
"Well, Ariana, it seems you've gained a few red highlights since we last met." He was smiling,  
looking a bit more relaxed.  
  
"Sorry, they tried three times and my natural hair color refused to stay hidden." I walked over to  
him. I needed his trust, needed to trust him. "Could you help me with this damn dress?"  
  
He stood up and began to undo the hundreds of buttons that held the dress closed. "Three hours to  
get me into this thing. They wanted me to wear a corset, can you believe it?"  
  
He coughed lightly. "No, I can safely say I can't believe that. You certainly have no need of one.  
There, you are free."  
  
The dress finally loose, I held it in place and headed for the bathroom, kicking off the shoes as I  
went, then stripped and took a quick shower. I towel-dried my hair and threw on a robe. Picking up  
the dress, I carried it out and laid it across the back of the sofa. Piotr was again sitting and he  
was watching me, a smirk on his face.  
  
"So, how shall we handle this night? The servants will be sure to gossip if there is no sign of...  
um..." He trailed off.  
  
"Am I supposed to be a virgin?" I asked, deciding to go with blunt.  
  
He actually blushed bright red. It was sweet in a way.  
  
"Don't worry, I've got it covered." I walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers. Climbing  
onto the bed I assumed the position for a moment and then sat up. Reaching under the robe I pulled  
out a butterfly knife Bobby had given me and taught me to use. With a practiced motion I had the  
blade out and nicked the heel of my hand with it. After letting the blood pool a bit in my hand I  
applied an artistic smear to the sheets. I refolded the knife and looked up to find Piotr standing  
next to me holding a cloth.  
  
"For your hand," he said, pressing the cloth to the cut. "You are quite resourceful. Did you have  
the knife the entire day?"  
  
"Yup." I held the cloth to my hand and climbed off the bed. After remaking it, I climbed back on  
top of the comforters and leaned my head back into the huge pile of pillows. "Long day," I said.  
  
He laughed quietly and sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Hey, they got me up before dawn to get me dressed, and do you think they fed me? Oh no. Can't risk  
ruining the 'fill in the blank,'" I said, poking him in the arm. "And they had kept me up half the  
night going over the ceremony, which I had memorized days ago." I rolled my eyes. "Never again. No  
more weddings for me."  
  
"And now it is late. Sleep. We have the honeymoon to get to know one another. Even we can't do it  
all in one day," he said, lifting one of my hands to kiss it gently.  
  
"If you're sure?" I asked. Had to admit I was tired, and I was pretty sure no one would try  
anything tonight.  
  
He nodded. "Sleep. Very soon we will be too busy for such simple idleness."  
  
I wiggled until vaguely comfortable and closed my eyes. Sleep came quickly for once.  
  
  
  
Thinking back, my wedding night was probably my last good night's sleep. The month or so after was  
absolutely nuts. Although Piotr and I were ostensibly on our honeymoon, we worked our butts off. He  
consolidated his power, trying to start a constitutional monarchy. I schmoozed with power-hungry  
idiots and guarded Piotr's back. His country was damn lucky to have him, and I was damn proud of  
him.  
  
Turned out we worked really well together, much to his true love's dismay. Yes, I figured out who  
she was. Her name was Misha, and she was kind of Piotr's executive secretary, though that was a  
poor description of her responsibilities. I mean, she quite literally helped him keep his life, and  
therefore the entire country, organized. The poor woman tried so hard to be nice to me, but it was  
obvious she wanted me gone.  
  
At least I'd been able to be more than just decorative for Piotr. Between the two of us, we pretty  
much redesigned his entire government. It wasn't easy. Those who had been in power before were  
constantly trying to stop him by one means or another. If it wasn't by trying to stop some decree  
or law, or refusing to sign an agreement, it was another assassination attempt. I was constantly  
destroying or jamming listening devices, taking away glasses of drink that were tainted, deflecting  
bullets away from him. Only about half of the assassins were caught. Every day was a challenge, but  
also fun in a weird way.  
  
When we had free moments, we spent them together. Sometimes doing nothing more than reading books  
together, sometimes going horseback riding. Sometimes falling asleep on the couch in our private  
apartments because we were exhausted. But we got the work done.  
  
I accomplished a few things of my own as well. There were a select few that Piotr knew and trusted,  
who knew that I was not Ariana, and I used this to my advantage. I was able to arrange a visit to a  
doctor who was both discreet and totally trustworthy. Given everything I had been through I had  
hoped that maybe, maybe something good had come out of it, but it wasn't to be. Had to admit I  
wasn't all that surprised by the answer I received, but it left me with a dilemma.  
  
The original intent was that I play Ariana for the rest of my life, fulfilling all the duties  
necessary as well as the ones my government thought I should fulfill. That included providing an  
heir, and I couldn't do that. I cared for Piotr enough to know that something had to be done to  
correct the problem, but the choices were very few.  
  
We were leaving for the States in the morning, where Piotr had to finalize the agreements he'd made  
with the US. There would be formal receptions, tours, everything. I didn't want to go. Our first  
stop was back home in San Diego.  
  
I was in the midst of packing some personal things when I had an epiphany of sorts. "Piotr, what  
would happen if your new bride were to die?"  
  
He walked over to me and set his hands on my shoulders. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, what if I were to tragically be killed; would it hinder or help your position here?" I  
asked, turning to face him. For all that we had been strangers a little over a month ago, we had  
grown quite close.  
  
"Ari, I would never wish..." he began.  
  
"Hush. Think, please. Would it hurt or help?"  
  
He thought, seriously thought about it, looking at me strangely the whole time. "Help, probably.  
You'd become a martyr. The country would mourn with me and for me, and I would not lose the power I  
gained by marrying you."  
  
I nodded. "Good. Now what if I took an assassin's bullet for you?"  
  
"Ari....!" he sounded shocked.  
  
"You know they're going to try while we're in the US. Why not take advantage of it?" I said in all  
seriousness. Yeah, it might be a little crazy, but crazy sometimes worked. As proved daily by Bobby  
Hobbes. Yeah, I missed him. All of them.  
  
"I'd have no more opposition. Even their supporters would fall away if they killed you," he said  
suddenly, realizing where I was going.  
  
"And after a suitable amount of time you could marry Misha," I said quietly. For all that we had  
become together, it still wasn't enough. We were happier, but we both knew our true happiness lay  
elsewhere.  
  
"You are far too smart and far too sweet," he said, kissing me lightly on the forehead. "If only..."  
  
"Yeah, if only... But neither of us own our hearts anymore." I rested against him with a sigh. I  
truly did like him, even loved him in some small way, but it wasn't enough. For either of us. "I'll  
gladly take 'friend.'"  
  
"Agreed." He paused. "I'm not sure what you have in mind, but I would not see you hurt for any  
reason."  
  
"Oh, don't worry, I'm shooting for minimal hurt here." I moved away from him, mentally calculating  
time zones. Ugh was what I came up with. "I need to use the secure line." I held up my hand. "You  
can't know, Piotr. Plausible deniability. The less you know the better."  
  
He nodded. "You're right, of course. I'll call down and have the room ready for you."  
  
I grabbed a notebook and pen and ran out of the room. If the servants were surprised to see their  
Queen running barefoot down the halls, they kept it to themselves. It wasn't like it was the first  
time after all. All I knew was that, one way or another, I was going home.  
  
  
  



	4. A Visit Home

  
  
  
Darien  
  
Alyx had been gone for nearly two months. You'd think I would have gotten over her by now. It was  
obvious that she was not coming back. Yet why was it I still could not forget her, let her go?  
  
The Official kept us busy enough. We averaged one big mission a week and several smaller ones,  
which kept us quite busy, between the missions themselves and then doing the paperwork after. The  
Official never once complained about the amount of counteragent I was using. I knew most of it was  
busy work, and in some ways it helped, but even Hobbes got to missing Alyx's talents. We had a  
couple of incidents where she could've gotten us out of trouble with a thought, literally a  
thought. We managed, but neither of us was really happy about the situation.  
  
Word came down that the Agency would be involved in a big event. This one actually required some  
planning, but of course we found out about it at the last possible moment and it left all of us  
scrambling to get set up. Some bigwig from one of those former Soviet countries was coming to town  
with his new bride, and rumors of an assassination attempt were rampant. Hobbes and I were in  
charge of the Agency's security detail. An Agent Dylan James of the CIA would be handling another  
layer of security, and below that were the personal guards of Their Majesties. Somehow we would  
have to coordinate all three different units and hopefully keep the two of them alive while they  
were in town.  
  
It was looking to be a long, boring, week.  
  
So there I was in a black suit and dark glasses, bored. Watching a bunch of high-and-mighties,  
waiting for this king and his wife to appear. You'd think it was a Hollywood premiere or something.  
This was the first of three functions we had to baby-sit these people through. Hey, at least the  
food was good.  
  
I wandered the room, keeping a lookout for anything suspicious, but realized that all the guys in  
dark suits with earphones were the ones who looked suspicious. What a way to blend into the crowd.  
I heard a smattering of applause and turned to the sound. Entering the room was the couple of the  
night, escorted by two of their Royal Guard.  
  
The King was the epitome of Hitler's Supermen. Blonde haired, blue eyed, handsome as the devil,  
wearing an Armani suit worth more than I made in a year, and at least a decade younger than myself.  
His wife was shaking hands and speaking with one of the gawkers. Tiny, wearing a deep blue dress,  
her hair up, stray curls framing the face. Then she turned and I really saw her.  
  
For an instant everything in the room stopped as I failed to remember to breathe. Then the sound  
came rushing back as I heard her laugh. The voice was different somehow, the hair a plain dark  
brown, not her fiery auburn, and her eyes were dark instead of the silver that some nights haunted  
me.  
  
I went looking for Hobbes. Maybe he knew what the heck was going on. His reaction was  
unenthusiastic. "Wow, she looks a lot like Alyx doesn't she. Now get back to work. You're supposed  
to protect them, not check out the Queen."  
  
Big help he was.  
  
The impromptu receiving line that had formed broke up after a few minutes, and after a moment's  
discussion with her husband, the royal couple separated. Working the room. This was just a big  
cocktail party, its purpose to see and be seen. There were as many politicians as actors here, and  
some were both.  
  
One of the stylishly dressed guards followed her at a discrete distance. I moved through the crowd,  
ending up on the outskirts of a large group she was talking with. She spoke in heavily accented  
English, with the occasional confused phrase. Her voice was somewhat lilting, nothing like Alyx's  
voice. Then she turned and saw me. I would swear she turned pale, yet she finished her story  
without missing a beat and turned away from me.  
  
I decided to push my luck and approached her. She looked up at me with dark blue eyes that revealed  
nothing. Leaning over I said quietly, "What's going on Alyx?"  
  
"I am afraid you are mistaken, sir. My name is Ariana Goranov Vellenchevski," she replied, stepping  
back slightly.  
  
I grabbed her arm gently. "Alyx..."  
  
Her bodyguard stepped forward, hand going to his sidearm. She raised her free hand, turning her  
head slightly towards him, and said something in what sounded like Russian. He stopped moving but  
glared at me. Turning back to me she said, "Let go. Now." For all that it was accented with  
Russian, I knew that tone of voice. It was Alyx.  
  
"Is there a problem?" someone asked behind me.  
  
Releasing Alyx, I turned to face her husband, the King. The guy was tall, but standing up straight  
I had maybe an inch or two on him. She stepped between us and laid a hand on his chest. "Just a  
misunderstanding," she said in English. Then she switched to that other language that reminded me  
of Russian and they spoke quickly and quietly for several minutes. She turned to look at me over  
her shoulder a couple of times. His arm came up protectively around her shoulder about halfway  
through. I have no idea what she said but his demeanor changed. His anger disappeared to be  
replaced with... I'm not sure what, but he no longer looked like he was going to hit me.  
  
It was then Hobbes appeared. Apologizing profusely for his 'idiot partner', he dragged me away from  
them.  
  
I spent the next five minutes ignoring the lecture my partner was giving me, all the while watching  
her. When she excused herself, I gave Hobbes some excuse and followed her. Her bodyguard tagged  
along of course. After her bodyguard checked the ladies room, she entered and he played guard dog  
outside the door. Okay, so it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I had to know if it was really  
her or not. I let the quicksilver flow over my body and proceeded to do the old tap the guy on the  
shoulder routine. I opened the door to the bathroom when he turned, but did not go in. He responded  
by swinging around. He knocked on the door himself and, at her response, opened it wide to check on  
her. That's when I entered.  
  
She sat in the lounge area staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was playing with a ring  
that had a rock on it large enough to buy a small country.  
  
I moved up behind her and let the quicksilver fall from my body. I put my finger to my lips and  
said "Shhhh."  
  
She saw me in the mirror and reacted by standing up and opening her mouth to scream. I grabbed her,  
covering her mouth with my hand. "Alyx, I know you are a good actress, but give me a break." I  
turned her around to face me and there was actual fright in her eyes. For a moment, I thought I  
might have made a mistake. I was never one to think small where my mistakes were concerned, so I  
moved my hand from her mouth and kissed her.  
  
  
  
Alyx  
  
We entered the room to a smattering of applause. I smiled and nodded to people as I walked by,  
occasionally stopping to speak to one. I always knew just the right people to talk to. This was a  
simple reception, an initial introduction for the two us before the real power talks began.  
  
Most of that would happen behind the scenes, in late night meetings, and phone calls. It had begun  
right after we arrived yesterday evening, and had gone on all day today. Add jet lag from hell, and  
I was not at my best. After a few more minutes of shaking hands and a quick discussion, Piotr and I  
separated, both of us heading into the crowd to talk to people, to pass on and collect info, to  
make the right connections for him and his country. Few of the people here tonight had any of the  
power we were looking to deal with, but a few words in the right ear might make a difference  
somewhere down the line.  
  
So I smiled and laughed and played the part of the ever faithful wife with aplomb. We were the  
perfectly happy married couple. Hah! Well, we were definitely married, and for the most part we  
were happy, but I can safely say that even if we had been in the mood to consummate the marriage,  
we hadn't had the time. Up before dawn and late to bed every night. We were poster children for  
sleep deprivation.  
  
I ended up in a group of about a dozen people and was in the middle of telling a story when I felt  
'him' behind me. Turning, I saw Darien and I felt myself go pale, but somehow finished my story  
without missing a beat. He walked up to me and asked, "What's going on Alyx?"  
  
I took a half step back and said in heavily accented English "I am afraid you are mistaken, sir. My  
name in Ariana Goranov Vallenchevski." Gods, he looked better than I remembered. He should wear  
suits more often. I mentally shook my head to straighten myself out. I still had a job to do, a  
role to play, and he was going to bollix the whole thing up if I couldn't get him to back off.  
  
He reached out, took my arm in his hand and said my name. I prayed my shields would hold. He had to  
believe I was Ariana, or this would not work. My bodyguard stepped forward behind me. I turned  
slightly to look at him and raised my free hand. "It's all right, Vasily. I can handle him," I said  
in Kanvian. I looked back at Darien, letting my anger show. Returning to English, I said to him,  
"Let go. Now."  
  
I looked past him to see Piotr approach. "Is there a problem?" he asked from behind Darien.  
Releasing me, Darien turned around to face Piotr. I was amused to see Darien actually stand up  
straight for once. He did try to glare down at Piotr, but Piotr wasn't buying it. Gods, he was  
going into possessive jerk mode again.  
  
I stepped between them before the testosterone got too thick and placed a hand on Piotr's chest.  
"Just a misunderstanding," I said in English. Then I switched to back to his language. "This is my  
Misha," I said, knowing Piotr would understand.  
  
"This one?" he asked his arm coming up around my shoulders.  
  
"Yes, the one being an idiot. I am so going to kill the Official." I somehow managed not to smile  
as I said this.  
  
"Ari. Will this be a problem?" Piotr asked, his anger leaving him.  
  
I glanced over at Darien who was still doing his 'my territory' act. "No, I don't think so." I  
noticed he was wearing his ubiquitous white sneakers with the black suit, and it took all my  
control to keep from laughing. It was just so...so Darien.  
  
That's when Hobbes showed up, and based on the look on his face, Darien was about to get one heck  
of a lecture. He apologized and led his wayward partner off.  
  
I had a hard time trying not to laugh. Piotr caught my look. "Your former comrades, I take it?"  
  
"Yes, and I see things haven't changed much in my absence." I smiled at him. "Go, I'll be fine,  
and I have the good Vasily to watch my back."  
  
"I expect it is the other way around most of the time," He replied dryly.  
  
"I am what I am, Piotr," I commented.  
  
"Yes, you are, and I thank heaven for it every day," he said smiling.  
  
"Smart-ass. Go. Mingle. Save the world, or at least your corner of it." I gave him a quick kiss  
and wandered off in search of a moment's privacy.  
  
I eventually decided that one of the ornate, overdone ladies rooms with a lounge would do for a few  
minutes of self-centeredness. Vasily entered and checked the room, then, having declared it safe, he  
went outside to stand guard. I knew I would remain undisturbed for as long as I wanted. Hey, there  
were some advantages to power. It was the responsibility that was the real work. I heard the door  
shift but ignored it figuring someone was trying to enter and Vasily would run them off. I was a  
little surprised when Vasily called out, "Is everything all right Your Majesty?" and opened the  
door to check on me.  
  
"I'm fine," I said not even looking up.  
  
"Majesty?" he said in concern.  
  
"Really. I'm fine." I lifted my head and looked at his reflection.  
  
With a nod he shut the door, and that's when I felt 'him' in the room. I played with the ring on my  
finger, twisting it around as I waited to see what he was going to do. I felt the temperature drop  
as he stepped behind me. He wouldn't... Well, of course he would, and did. Sometimes he just does  
not think.  
  
Letting the quicksilver fall, he raised a finger to his lips and said, "Shhhh."  
  
I was getting irritated. He was going to screw this whole thing up. I watched him in the mirror as  
I stood up to scream. He grabbed me and covered my mouth with his hand. Moving in close he said in  
my ear, "Alyx, I know you are a good actress, but give me a break." Then he turned me around and I  
looked up at him, doing my best scared rabbit routine. I was pretty sure he was buying it until he  
removed his hand and kissed me.  
  
Okay, so what was I to do? I struggled to get away like I was supposed to, but gave up when his  
hands slid across my back. Dear god, this was just so damn unfair. I gave myself a few moments to  
enjoy this pleasure, my hands finding their way under his suit jacket. I felt his hands tracing  
there way up to my neck and playing with my hair. Crap, if I didn't stop this now the whole damn  
thing would be ruined. I pushed him away and punched him in the arm.  
  
"Ow!" he yelped. "What was that for?"  
  
Vasily called to me from the other side of the door. "Are you all right, Majesty?"  
  
"Yes, Vasily. Stupid heels." I responded. Covering both our asses yet again.  
  
I looked at Darien and punched him again. I was pissed. "Bloody fool. Do you want to screw up  
everything?" I shouted at a whisper. This was not supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to run into  
him. He wasn't supposed to see me. Get anywhere near me.  
  
I raised my hand, intending to quicksilver him and leave, but he grabbed it and pulled me against  
him. "No more hitting," he said, caressing my face, making me sigh and want to melt.  
  
*Your timing sucks,* I said into his mind as I relaxed. *The Official is an idiot.*  
  
He held me close as he asked the same way, *What's going on?*  
  
What a question. I didn't dare tell him. If he knew what was coming he was sure to do something  
sweet and stupid and ruin the whole thing. *I can't tell you. And believe me, you don't want and  
can't afford to know,* I replied.  
  
I stepped back out of his hold, gave him a kiss that I wished could have been longer, and  
quicksilvered him with my hand. Then I turned and left the room.  
  
Vasily fell in step with me as I returned to the party. I seemed to have problems focusing the rest  
of the evening, as part of me watched Darien and the other kept an eye on Piotr. For all that I  
wanted to be melting into Darien's embrace, I knew that I had to focus on Piotr. Twice I had to  
remove drinks from his hand that, while they probably wouldn't have killed him, would have made him  
a very unhappy camper and ended this little trip of ours. I was getting tired of all these attempts.  
The orchestrator needed to be caught, and soon.  
  
Piotr had learned to take it for granted that I would do things like that. He never asked, never  
questioned, just trusted me implicitly. You know, I still haven't figured out why.  
  
I stayed reasonably near him the rest of the party. Agent James hovered around the edges of the  
room, his mood growing darker by the hour. I was extremely suspicious of the man -- if it wasn't  
for the fact that he'd gotten me the part of Ariana I'd suspect him of most of the attempts against  
Piotr. I mean, why bring in someone to do a protection job if you wanted them to fail? Okay, so  
maybe he really didn't believe I was capable in the beginning -- I did work for the Agency after  
all -- but he had to know by now.  
  
I didn't let Piotr know about my worries. I simply watched and waited, and hoped everything would  
go as planned.  
  
We left the party and returned to our suite around two am. After a quick security check, we headed  
to bed. Piotr helped me get out of the dress. I was not a dress person and people kept insisting I  
wear them because it was proper for a lady of my rank. What I wouldn't give for my leather pants  
right now. I sighed.  
  
"Ari?" Piotr asked.  
  
"Sorry, just dreaming about leather again," I said, hanging up the dress. I threw on a robe and sat  
on the edge of the bed. "Could you help me with this stupid hair piece?" I had people helping me  
dress, but do you think they stuck around to get me out of the crap they shoved me in? Oh no. I  
ended up having to do it myself.  
  
"Of course," he answered, sitting behind me. He had removed his jacket, tie and shirt. If nothing  
else, Piotr was one fine looking man.  
  
"How did they... ah, got it." He gently tugged the damn clip out of my hair. He tossed it onto a  
night stand and loosened my hair as it dropped past my shoulders. Brushing it to one side he gently  
kissed my neck and whispered. "Bugs?"  
  
Bringing a hand up into his hair I replied, "Of course. Shall I exterminate?"  
  
"Not tonight, I think. Let them think they won one tonight. I doubt they'll be hearing much," he  
said as he gently laid me down and moved his kissing to the front of my throat.  
  
I chuckled. "Not planning on snoring tonight then, huh?"  
  
"Ari..." he said, lifting his head up. He was trying not to laugh.  
  
I laughed harder. He started kissing my throat again and my laughter turned into a sigh. Even  
though this was nothing more than a staged marriage, we did care for each other and shared what  
enjoyment we could. In another life, we might have become a lot more than we ever could now.  
  
"So, did you're friend find you later?" he asked as his tongue roamed across my collar bone. He was  
very talented at that.  
  
I groaned at the memory that question brought on. "I'll take that as a yes, then," he said as he  
moved lower. He was obviously in a mood tonight. Not that I minded all that much.  
  
But at his words I rolled over, pushing him down on the bed. "Meanie, big meanie. I'll tell Misha  
if you don't behave," I mock threatened.  
  
His hand came up and brushed my hair back behind my ear. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know how hard it  
is for you."  
  
"Me? I don't have to work with him every day. You have no choice in the matter." I leaned in close  
brushing my lips across his shoulder. "Tell her the truth one day, will you? The truth about us. She  
deserves to know."  
  
His arms came around to hold me. "If you wish it. I will."  
  
"She's a good woman Piotr. I hope you treasure her forever," I said as I lay my head down and  
listened to his heart beating.  
  
"I hope you get treated the same, my dear," he said softly.  
  
"So do I. So do I."  
  
  
  
I think we got three hours sleep. I know, for most people that doesn't count as sleep, but for us  
that was more than most nights. By the time the security people had finally shown up for the  
morning meeting, I was pretending to be human. I had taken a few minutes to look over the security  
plans for the day and something just screamed wrong. So when Agent James and his people arrived, I  
brought it up. He was not happy in the least about my noticing it, so I did something I normally  
never would. I opened my shields and read the man.  
  
I tried not to let my disgust show on my face. The things this man had done, had planned. I was  
almost stunned with disbelief. James was secretly working with the other faction in Piotr's  
government, a faction that was willing to give up a few more juicy things if they got put back into  
power. Right. I could almost guarantee they were bullshitting James, but he had bought it and had  
taken it upon himself to eliminate Piotr.  
  
As for me, well, I was now doubly useful to him. Before he knew and believed in my 'talents,' I was  
simply to become the controlled puppet when Piotr died. Not only was I a pretender, but, in truth,  
what did I know about ruling a country? The advisors to Piotr, which included James, would gladly  
step in to help me, to make sure I made all the right decisions. To see that things went the way  
they wanted them to. They had lost their power and they wanted it back.  
  
James, well James may have been surprised that I could really do the things in my file, but had no  
trouble adapting them to his plans. While my advisors essentially ran the country, he would see to  
it I made state visits all over the world and garnered information directly from the minds of world  
leaders. A royal spy. Able to get in just about any door in the world and able to access information  
from places no one else in the world could hope to get to. James was a bit irritated that I kept  
aborting his little assassination attempts, but it was not enough to keep him from continuing his  
efforts.  
  
He was actually very surprised that he'd not had any success by now. After all, hadn't I fallen for  
the ruse to lure me to Newport, to allow Heilburg to poke and prod at me for the benefit of the CIA?  
It was unsuccessful, but that wasn't the point. Then, of course, there was the ease with which I  
fell for Morris' little cruise. It was obvious to him that I was more than a little naive -- too  
trusting, too willing to just take the orders and follow them. I did work for the Agency, after  
all, so how skilled could I really be?  
  
I slammed my shields shut and looked about the room. What I had just done had taken no more than a  
few seconds, and the battle over the days security still raged about us. Watching the man  
carefully, I decided now was not the time to confront him about the entire situation --I would  
contact the Official later and give him what little I knew -- but I would not let him get away with  
the obvious hole in the security today. I wasn't ready, not yet.  
  
I insisted that he correct the security problem and he kept insisting there wasn't one.  
  
Finally Piotr spoke up and told Agent James to correct the problem. Period. End of story. That  
ended the meeting. I walked over to the Agent and insisted we have a little chat. I proceeded to  
tell him in detail, in pure Russian, what an idiot he was and ask him what kind of fool he thought  
I was. I was put in this position in order to protect Piotr, and I'd be damned if I let him stop me  
no matter what his personal agenda was. In my anger at one point I switched into French, a far more  
colorful language for some phrases. When he left, glaring holes into every available surface, I  
took a few deep breaths to calm down. Darien had followed us in, much to my amusement, but I had  
ignored him until now. As I left the room I passed him and said quietly, "I know you're there."  
  
He just hates it when I do that.  
  
In the car on the way to Balboa Park I leaned against Piotr and sighed. "Do we have to do this? I  
really do not want to spend my day wandering around a park answering every stupid question these  
reporters can think of."  
  
Piotr rested his chin on my head. "Neither do I. I would much rather be in bed. Sleeping. But duty  
calls and you will quite impress them, I'm sure."  
  
"I know." I sat up and looked into his eyes. "I know. Do I get to show them I'm not some trophy  
bride? I've been reading, again."  
  
"Go easy on them, please. We don't want them thinking that you're the brains behind the crown, now  
do we?" he said, laughing.  
  
"What's wrong with behind? You wear the crown, and I support both you and it. That's the way it's  
supposed to work, right?" I asked, half facetiously.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. Most of the world could not see the truth of that statement  
because they are too busy trying to snatch the crown for themselves." He kissed me lightly on the  
brow. "You are a remarkable woman, Ari."  
  
"Piotr..." I began.  
  
"Hush woman, we have a long day before us. Let us enjoy it as much as we may." He held me tight  
for a moment and then relaxed his hold and I leaned my head against his shoulder once again.  
  
I still wasn't used to cameras following me around. At least three different camera crews greeted  
us as we arrived. The various security details were conspicuously absent, as they were supposed to  
be today. Only our personal bodyguards stayed with us. The gentleman who was to be our guide  
greeted us and, after a few moments conversation, escorted us to the first of several museums we  
would be touring that day. I answered the few questions posed to me, made appropriate comments  
about the artwork we viewed, and tried not to laugh every time one of the reporters looked  
surprised at my comments. Piotr and I kept a running score of the variety of looks I managed to  
achieve. It kept us amused.  
  
When it was time to go to the Botanical Garden for the Q&A session, I became more wary. This was  
where the hole in security had been, and the impressions I had gleaned from Agent James' mind led  
me to believe an attempt might very well occur here. I hoped my insistence on changes had prevented  
that. I opened my shields carefully, looking for minds that didn't belong. There was something, but  
it was too vague, too fleeting to hold onto. I mentally watched for about fifteen minutes until the  
vague presence was gone. Then I excused myself from Piotr's side so that I could have a moment to  
ease the headache the searching had caused.  
  
I was peacefully smelling a rose, with Vasily patiently following behind me, when Darien appeared.  
I looked at him with half a smile.  
  
"Vasily, give us a moment would you?" I said over my shoulder.  
  
Vasily nodded and moved off a few steps, just out of hearing range.  
  
"Can I help you Agent Fawkes?" I asked in English. Ah, having him so near and yet so inaccessible  
was torture. Sweet torture. I hated this.  
  
"I'm just making sure you're safe," he said with a shrug. "My job, you know."  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be invisibly protecting us today? Neither seen nor heard?" I so wanted to  
laugh; I missed being able to rib him about our shared ability. I turned away from Darien when  
Vasily called to me and I saw the camera crew and reporter approaching. Turning back to Darien I  
said, "If you'll excuse me, Agent Fawkes, duty calls."  
  
I watched Darien out of the corner of my eye as I answered the reporter's questions. I wanted to  
follow him, to hold him, to... But I could not. So I answered questions about how I liked it here,  
what I thought of the gardens, etc. I apparently overdid it in my answer about Piotr's plans for  
his country, because the reporter quickly went from surprised to confused. I'd forgotten that  
intelligence was not a requirement for that particular job. Poor fellow, never had a chance.  
  
I rejoined Piotr a little later, and together we answered a few more questions before leaving and  
going back to the hotel. I was exhausted, and decided to skip the evening security meeting. We  
weren't planning on leaving again tonight. I stripped out of my 'proper attire' and took a quick  
shower. I was sitting in a chair, combing out my hair in sweats and a tank top, when Piotr finally  
came in.  
  
"It would scandalize the court if they knew their beloved Queen lazed around in such clothes," he  
said with a smile.  
  
"I think they'd forgive her if they knew the day she had," I returned, getting up and going over to  
the bed. With a sigh I fell back onto it. "And we still have to get through tomorrow," I whimpered.  
"I hate speaking in public."  
  
"You?" Piotr said, sounding surprised. "Miss 'let's see if I can embarrass the Cabinet Minister?'  
Afraid to speak in public?"  
  
"Giving a speech is not the same as embarrassing that old goat," I replied. "Besides, he deserved  
it." I rolled over onto my stomach, wrong way on the bed, and watched as he changed. "Meetings?"  
  
"A few," he answered.  
  
"Do you need me there?" I asked. I was more than willing to get dressed and help him if he needed  
it.  
  
"No. Not tonight." He came over to me and sat next to me. I rolled over and looked up at him.  
  
"You sure? I don't mind," I said to him. I would do anything to help him; he deserved it.  
  
"I'm sure. Get some rest. This shouldn't take more than an hour or two." He leaned over and kissed  
me lightly on the lips.  
  
"I wish I could be of more help to you Piotr," I said quietly.  
  
He stood. "Ari, I can't imagine what more you could do. Stop  
worrying. Things will work out, for all of us." He crossed the room and went through the door back  
into the main area of the suite. Without moving, I turned off the light and lay there staring at the  
ceiling in the dark for quite some time.  
  
  
  
I sat on the stage, looking out over the crowd, holding Piotr's hand. I was only vaguely aware of  
the current speaker while my mind was busy searching. Good thing I could multi-task or I'd be in  
big trouble. Whoever the shooter was, he was good at hiding. Obviously he was making an effort to  
not think about the job he intended to do -- thoughts like those would stand out among all the  
other minds I had touched today.  
  
This was the perfect opportunity for a public assassination, and I had left the hole that I saw in  
the security alone. Not only did I have a good idea where the shooter would be, but I was also,  
now, pretty damn sure who had arranged it. Was I surprised? Not at all. When this was over, he'd  
regret everything he had done.  
  
I could see various members of the security details all over the place. Had touched most of them.  
Had touched Darien's mind and knew he felt it. I forced myself to not speak to him, to continue my  
search. This had to go right the first time.  
  
Everything seemed to be going as it should. I heard the current speaker wrapping up, about to  
introduce me. I stood as he said my name, giving Piotr's hand a quick squeeze before letting go,  
and walking up to the podium. Because of my height, a step had been set behind the podium for me to  
stand on, bringing my height up to nearly that of my husbands. I looked out over the crowd, smiled,  
and began my memorized speech.  
  
I sensed a change -- danger was suddenly present in my mental search, and I recognized Darien's  
mind as the source. He'd figured out the location of the shooter, right in the hole as I suspected,  
and armed with that knowledge I found him for myself. I kept in contact with Darien and sensed that  
he and Hobbes were going to warn of the danger. I couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let them  
prevent what I needed to occur. The assassination attempt had to happen, it just had to fail.  
  
I jammed their radios, a damned hard thing to do at this distance. My head was starting to hurt  
from trying to juggle one too many things. I wrapped up my speech and introduced Piotr.  
  
I could feel Darien and Hobbes looking for the shooter on the roof of the building. The shooter I  
held in as tight a mental grip as I could, so he would do his job when I wanted and not before. I  
thickened the air about me slightly, in hopes of slowing, but not stopping, the bullet. The timing  
had to be perfect for this. As I turned to Piotr, his hand out to help me down from the step, I  
kissed him on the cheek and whispered. "It's Misha's turn now."  
  
I pulled the trigger.  
  
  
  



	5. Resolutions

  
  
  
Darien  
  
So there I was, standing at the top of the stairs overlooking the crowd. Directly across from me  
was the stage where speech number three -- or was it four? -- was going on. I was wired nine ways  
to Sunday -- not one, but two headsets, and one handheld. I ignored most of the voices, just  
standard location checks.  
  
Alyx sat on the stage next to her husband, looking lovely. She was dressed in a stylish off-white  
pant suit that emphasized her slenderness. She appeared to be calm and still, but somehow I knew  
she wasn't. I had twice now felt her mental touch, just a light tap to confirm I was who I was.  
Most people wouldn't even feel it, but she and I had spent months practicing this silent way of  
saying 'it's me', so I couldn't help but notice.  
  
I looked away from the stage to check the rest of the area. The lawn was flanked by buildings on  
three sides. The actual hotel was behind me, with convention halls and restaurants in the smaller  
buildings on either side. I don't know why, but something about the building to my right caught my  
attention. Or rather, the lack of something. There were several security men easily visible on the  
roof to my left, but none on the one to the right.  
  
"Hobbes, do we have security on the roof of building two?" I asked into one of my headsets.  
  
"I don't know, bud. Why?" he replied.  
  
"I'm not sure. Something's not right," I replied. Maybe it was just some of Hobbes' paranoia  
rubbing off on me, but something about the building just seemed wrong.  
  
There was silence for a long moment, then "Let's check it out."  
  
I took off for the building. Hobbes and I would meet up somewhere along the way.  
  
Down on the stage, the current speaker introduced the next. Ariana Goranov Vallenchevski.  
  
Hobbes caught up with me at the service elevator, the only one that went to the roof.  
  
"They didn't post a guard on the roof, just here." Hobbes swept the hallway with a look. "Where  
the hell is he?"  
  
"No one was here when I got here," I said. My bad feeling was turning into an 'aw, crap' feeling.  
  
We spent a couple minutes looking for the guard, and found what was left of him in an equipment  
case.  
  
"Code red," Hobbes said into the handheld. "We have a code red in building two."  
  
Static came back. We were being jammed.  
  
"Aw, crap," I muttered. I had a really bad feeling about this.  
  
"You said it, partner. Let's do this," Hobbes said, getting into the elevator car.  
  
Once we got to the roof, I wondered just why they'd had to put every extraneous piece of equipment  
up here. Aside from the fact it gave decent cover, it was a major pain in the butt.  
  
"Disappear and find him," Hobbes said.  
  
So my partner might be paranoid. That doesn't mean he's not right. I quicksilvered and started  
searching the roof. I could hear Alyx's voice drifting up from below as she did her speech. Where  
the hell was the bastard? I got to the edge of the building facing the stage. It was a crappy  
angle, but a good shooter could manage it. Further down the building I saw...something.  
  
"Hobbes, far end, on top of a storage shed," I shouted starting to run towards the spot.  
  
"Gotcha. On my way."  
  
I ran.  
  
Down on the stage, I could hear Alyx introducing her husband. It was going to be close.  
  
I shouted, hoping to distract the shooter, but to no avail. As I leaped up to get to the roof of  
the storage unit, I heard the gun fire. I kicked the guy in the face, just as the screams began  
down below.  
  
Furious, as much at myself as at him, I kicked him again, knocking him off the shed and onto the  
roof below. I jumped down and let the quicksilver fall from me. Bobby came round the corner of the  
building, gun drawn. With practiced ease, he knelt down and handcuffed the bastard. Our headsets  
burst into life with shouts for emergency vehicles and for the area to be locked down.  
  
"Who was hit?" I asked into my set. If there was an answer, I couldn't make it out from all the  
other traffic. Leaving Hobbes to deal with the shooter I walked to the edge of the building to see  
what was going on. The stage was swarming with security, and the crowd was quickly being removed  
from the area. Even from my vantage point, I couldn't see a thing.  
  
Hobbes came up behind me shoving the shooter in front of him. Forcing him down to his knees, Hobbes  
said, "He missed. The King is fine..."  
  
"I hear a really big 'but' in there Hobbes. Spit it out," I said, somehow knowing I really, really  
didn't want to hear this.  
  
"He got her, instead."  
  
"Her?" Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?  
  
"He got the Queen instead. They don't think she's going to make it."  
  
I don't remember much about the next few minutes. Somehow I got down from the roof, in time to see  
her being wheeled away on a gurney and into an ambulance. There was so much blood.  
  
The King was standing to one side, surrounded by guards and arguing with them about something. His  
jacket was gone and the shirt was liberally splattered with blood. He saw me and, for some unknown  
reason, called me over to them. "Agent Fawkes, would you please convince these men that I must and  
will go to the hospital?"  
  
He was surrounded by Agent James' assorted goons, and I knew something was up. "He's going," I  
said. After watching Alyx argue with James, I had become very wary of him. If Alyx didn't like the  
guy, there must be a reason. A real reason.  
  
"But, we can't. Agent James..." one of them sputtered.  
  
"Agent James is the one who screwed this whole thing up." I glanced around and located the two  
Royal Bodyguards. Waving them over, I said, "Get these idiots out of here please," hoping they  
understood English.  
  
The one who'd always been following Alyx said, "Of course sir," with only the slightest trace of an  
accent. Somehow, I wasn't the least bit surprised.  
  
It took mere moments before the CIA goons had scattered and the bodyguards were back.  
  
"Hobbes, we've just been tagged for King duty, care to join me?" I said into the Agency's headset.  
  
"On my way, partner," he replied, showing up mere seconds later.  
  
"Where did they take her, Your Majesty?" Yeah, I was being polite. It was the least I could do,  
and for the time being the pretense of who she was had to be maintained. Even I knew that.  
  
"Piotr," he said to me, then. "I don't know."  
  
"Gimme a sec," Hobbes said, and began talking into one of the headsets. It took a couple of  
minutes, but he eventually achieved success. "Got it. Let's go."  
  
We took one of the limos sitting out front and drove. Well, one of the bodyguards drove while Bobby  
gave directions. I don't remember much of the drive, just that we got there much sooner than I had  
expected. As soon as the hospital staff realized who Piotr was, we were escorted into private room  
and told that someone would be by soon to tell us what was going on. Television crews had followed,  
but were being kept outside. Soon, though, even this small island of peace would be inundated. I  
leaned back against the wall and said "Alyx..." under my breath.  
  
"Was that her name?" Piotr asked in English. "I never knew, she was just Ariana to me."  
  
"Yeah, Alyx...Alyx Silver," I replied, sitting down in one of the cheap plastic chairs.  
  
"Fawkes, what are you talking about? Alyx left months ago, remember? What would she have to do with  
this?" Hobbes asked.  
  
Sometimes my partner just can't see the obvious. Luckily I was saved the trouble of having to  
answer.  
  
"She was hired by your government to act as a double for my betrothed, who was killed months ago.  
One of her duties was to protect me at any cost," Piotr answered to Hobbes surprise.  
  
"So that was Alyx? I'm gonna kill that son of a...." Hobbes didn't get a chance to finish.  
  
The door opened and a doctor in bloodied scrubs walked in. The look on his face said it all. We'd  
been too late. We'd lost Alyx. Once again I hadn't got the chance to say goodbye.  
  
  
  
Hobbes got me home. We were both stunned and he offered to stay, but I was in no mood for company.  
I went to work on getting stinking drunk. At some point I turned on the TV, only to discover the  
big news of the day was my day. Over and over they showed the scenes of Alyx being killed. I swear  
it was on every channel. I couldn't escape it. There were even shots of me and Hobbes with Piotr  
mingled with the images of a bloody Alyx being loaded into an ambulance. Someone had managed a face  
shot, and even with the oxygen mask over her face you could tell it was bad.  
  
I threw my bottle at the damn box to make the images go away. After that I don't remember much,  
other than doing my best to drink my way into oblivion.  
  
The next morning, if anything, was worse. Not only was I at a loss, but I was hung-over as hell.  
For a moment I envied Alyx her immunity to this side effect, until I remembered. Remembered that  
now she was a lot closer to my brother Kevin than she was to me. That didn't make me feel any  
better. In fact, I was far more tempted to just head down to the liquor store and continue my binge  
instead of heading in to work.  
  
I managed to get to the office, only to be told that Hobbes and I had done as good a job as could  
be expected, that we'd protected the target, and that Agent James was the one who had dropped the  
ball on security. I wanted to throttle the man. No mention of Alyx. No 'sorry about your  
partner.' Nothing. Just what I should have expected. I hated my job.  
  
I went down to the lab to see Claire, who proceeded to berate me on my condition even as she gave  
me the shot of counteragent I had earned. How it could affect the monitor or the gland. Exactly not  
what I needed. I tuned her out for a while, then went into some ranting diatribe about how life  
sucks in general and mine in particular. That lasted several minutes.  
  
All I got was an "Are you finished now? I have work to do," from her.  
  
Great. I had just accomplished what I felt was the biggest screw-up in my life, and no one gave  
damn. With a growl of irritation and a few curses, I left, in some ways with absolutely no  
intention of ever coming back. I wish. I wished a lot of things then. Some I still do.  
  
I ended up at Alyx's apartment. For the longest time I simply stood in her doorway, looking at the  
space. I couldn't comprehend the idea that she would never be coming back to this place. When she  
left there had at least been a chance, but now... Now it was over. And I had no one to blame but  
myself. I'd been too slow. Too late to prevent her death. And I would have done anything to change  
that fact. Anything.  
  
  
  
Alyx  
  
My first thought when the bullet hit me in the back was, 'what is this guy using, a cannon?' Then  
the pain hit. Piotr held me when I arched back involuntarily. Everything I had been controlling  
broke free and I felt myself fall.  
  
"Ari?" Piotr said. The fear and pain in his voice saddened me. I didn't want to hurt him. Not any  
more than necessary.  
  
"Ow," was my brilliant comment as my legs collapsed beneath me.  
  
I felt myself being lowered and the sky darkened as we were swarmed by bodyguards. As if from a  
distance, I could hear people screaming. I tried to ignore everything. Piotr knelt beside me and  
placed his folded jacket under my head. I took his hand and held on as if for dear life.  
"Piotr..." All of a sudden it was hard to breathe, heck it was down right painful. "Sorry..."  
  
"Ari, you'll be okay, help is on the way. Just hold on," he said, brushing hair from my face.  
  
I couldn't wait any more, I'd screwed up and gotten hurt worse than I intended. I smiled up at him  
for a moment and squeezed his hand. Then I closed my eyes and put myself into a deep trance state.  
Before I went under completely I wondered if I would wake up from this. Because I wanted to. Not  
that long ago, I wouldn't have bothered fighting it and would have just let myself go, but  
now...now I wanted to live, wanted to see another sunrise, wanted to see Darien again.  
  
I came partially out of it in the emergency room, when some idiot of a doctor kept trying to  
defibrillate me. It wasn't a fun experience. All it did was bring me up out of the trance state  
that was keeping me alive. When he came at me again with the stupid paddles, I fed the energy back  
through the machine, frying it. After several colorful swears, I could hear the doctor screaming  
for another machine.  
  
Instead of compliance I heard, "She's dead doctor." It was the Official's voice.  
  
I felt familiar hands on my arm. "Alyx, we're here. Fools brought you to the wrong hospital." It  
was Claire, the Keeper.  
  
I could hear the doctor arguing with the Official about my state of being. I managed to open my  
eyes and saw the Keeper looking down at me in concern. With a bit of effort, I managed to convince  
the heart monitor to deliver a flat line.  
  
"See," the Official argued. "She's dead."  
  
The doctor gave up and decided to do as the Official wished.  
  
"Claire..." I tried to say, but I began to cough instead. I tasted blood in my mouth and knew this  
was not good.  
  
"Alyx. Don't talk, don't do anything. We've got to get you to surgery," she said.  
  
I felt a needle enter my arm.  
  
The drugs rushed through my system, dragging me down deep. "You'll be okay, Alyx. Just relax. Let  
us take care of it." That was the last thing I heard for a long time.  
  
  
  
"C'mon Alyx. Time to wake up," the voice said.  
  
I didn't want to hear. Sleeping was such a nice change of pace. Floating on a puffy little cloud of  
unreality, where nothing bad could ever happen to me. Where my life was my own. Where I was actually  
happy for once in my life. I didn't want to leave.  
  
"Maybe she's still not ready," a different voice said, deeper, masculine.  
  
"I've been telling you she's not ready since you suggested this," the first voice said.  
  
"I know, but we don't have choice. We have to move now. And the information we need is in her  
head." That was the second voice.  
  
My head...ached wasn't the right word...felt like it was stuffed with cotton, felt drugged. I tried  
to push the drugged feeling away, clear my head.  
  
Sudden shouts. "Damn it, she's doing it again!"  
  
'Doing what?' I thought. I still was disconnected. I was there, but not there, still drifting  
without a real connection to my sense of self.  
  
"Drug her, damn it," the second voice said.  
  
"No, let me try something else," the first voice said. "Pattern."  
  
That cleared my mind; I recognized the voices as Claire and the Official. Realizing that my fogged  
brain was playing havoc with everything in the room, I regained my control and put everything back  
the way it should be.  
  
"It doesn't work anymore, you know," I said, my voice sounding strange. I cracked open my eyes.  
  
"Alyx, good, you're awake finally," Claire said. "What doesn't work anymore?"  
  
"The programming. I purged that right after the last incident." I coughed, my throat dry.  
  
"Here, drink," Claire said, handing me a glass.  
  
I tried to sit up, but she shook her head and helped me from a prone position. My brain was still  
not functioning up to standard, but I remembered what had gotten me into this situation. I forced  
myself up into a seated position, trying not to wince at the pain that shot through me.  
  
"Piotr?" I asked. I hoped like hell he was all right. That things had worked the way I planned.  
  
"So far, so good, but we need to know about the hit," the Official said. "Based on your info and  
some of our own, we think we know who was behind the whole thing, but we have no proof."  
  
"And I do," I answered. "Where is the bastard?" I was going to have his head on a platter, one way  
or another.  
  
"D.C. But not for much longer. We have to move now," the Official said.  
  
"Get me there," I growled, trying to get out of bed. I was shocked at just how weak I was.  
  
"Alyx you can't, you need time to finish recovering. You won't be able to walk," Claire said,  
trying to restrain me.  
  
"I don't need to walk. I just need to get there," I stated. "You're going to need him admitting to  
it. I think seeing a dead woman might get him to cough up the info. If not, I have other ways to  
make him talk." I was shockingly weak and my back was a joyous bounty of pain, but I managed to  
swing my legs off the side of the bed and groan, "How long was I out?"  
  
"Alyx, you've been unconscious for almost a month," Claire said.  
  
"A month?" I squeaked, surprised. "It couldn't have been that bad." I had lost an entire month?  
What must Darien be thinking? And Piotr, how much did he know?  
  
"No, it was worse. And frankly, I'm surprised you survived at all," Claire said seriously. "You  
shouldn't do this, not now. Give it a few days. At least get some strength back first."  
  
"Can we afford to wait?" I asked the Official, even though I already knew the answer.  
  
"Not really. Every day we wait is one more for him to consolidate his power, and he leaves at the  
end of the week for Kanvia," he answered.  
  
"He'll try again." It was not a question. I had been inside James' head just enough to know that  
very little would stop him as long as his goal was still within reach. And with me gone...  
  
"Yes. We believe he will," he answered unnecessarily.  
  
"Get me on a plane and get me there. I don't care how, but do it." I stood up, much to Claire's  
surprise.  
  
"You'll both go," the Official said, ending any argument the Keeper might have had.  
  
So that's how I found myself flying to D.C. after taking the biggest nap of my life. The Keep  
wasn't kidding about me barely making it. The collapsed lung was bad enough, but then there was the  
fun fact that they had no compatible blood donors -- well, I had been lucky to make it through the  
first twenty-four hours. Never mind returning to consciousness.  
  
Well, I was awake now, and ready to kick some butt. Okay, whap it viciously with my cane. My show  
of bravado earlier hadn't lasted very long. I felt like jello on a hot summers day. Weak and  
wobbly. I was dead pale and god, I hurt. It's amazing what a bullet from a high powered rifle will  
do to a person. I had almost no use of my right arm, the muscles in my back were so stiff.  
  
Life was just so fun. Right. I wondered how much more damage I could do before my body decided to  
kick my sorry ass. Claire kept telling me to rest, to sleep. Isn't that what I'd been doing for the  
last month? I tried not to think, but didn't succeed nearly as well. Top of my mind was concern for  
Piotr. I didn't go through this whole mess just to let James and whoever he was working for get a  
second chance. I assumed that Piotr knew I was actually all right. That had been part of the plan I  
had set up with the Official. Piotr was to know the truth, after the fact, so that wouldn't worry  
needlessly. We couldn't tell him before because his reactions needed to be real. He had to believe  
I was dead.  
  
Agent James did believe I was dead, which was going to make this so much fun. Darien, I didn't  
know. I hoped the Official or at least Claire would have filled him in, but I was unsure. If they  
hadn't, I wanted to weep at the thought of the pain it must have caused him.  
  
The next morning I stood outside Agent James' office, praying my temper and strength would hold.  
Claire stood down the hall, waiting. It's amazing where a shiny badge and a few well-placed phone  
calls can get you. I checked the hall out of habit, even though I had already jammed both the audio  
and video surveillance, and then quicksilvered myself into invisibility.  
  
I knocked on his door and he called enter. I just stood there waiting for him to open it, which he  
eventually did. Being small can have its advantages. He was somewhat miffed to find no one outside  
the door and swung it shut in irritation, but I managed to slip in before it closed. He settled  
back behind his desk and continued with his work. Using my mind, I turned on the inter-office  
communication system and then let the quicksilver fall.  
  
He looked up at me in surprise. For several minutes we just watched one another. Then I smiled.  
"Good to see you too, Agent James."  
  
He actually went for his gun. Idiot. It left his hand to find its way through the glass of the door  
I had just come through.  
  
"You're dead. I saw it. And nothing could have survived those bullets," he sputtered.  
  
"Oh, really? Looks like I did." I was going have to ask Claire about this later. I took a step  
towards him and he went for his desk.  
  
"Go ahead, go for your other gun." I smiled. My body might have been tired and in pain, but my  
mind was well rested and fully capable of handling just about anything.  
  
So he did and started to fire almost before it cleared the edge of the desk. One shot went past my  
head, missing me all on its own. The rest I stopped as they neared me so they hung in the air.  
"Bitch. I won't have you screwing things up for me."  
  
"You did that all by yourself, Dylan," a male voice said from the doorway. "Drop the gun, now."  
  
I turned and saw the biggest black man I had ever seen in my life entering the room. He looked like  
he could be the defensive line for a national football team. The entire line. By himself.  
  
I looked up and up as he stood next to me. "You're a big one now, ain't ya."  
  
He chuckled. "So I've been told." Several other men had entered behind him and took custody of  
James. "I'd ask if you were all right, but I would guess you are since the bullets he tried to hit  
you with are floating in the air in front of you."  
  
I held out my hands and let them go, catching them. I poured them onto the desk top. "I think I  
need to sit down about now," I said, as my knees folded without my permission.  
  
He moved amazingly fast and caught me, steering me to a nearby chair. "Maybe I should have asked  
anyway?"  
  
"I'll be okay. Agent..." I said.  
  
"Montgomery. Internal Affairs. Cute trick with the intercom. I was wondering how we would get the  
bastard," he said. "And you are...?"  
  
"Agent Silver, Department of Fish and Game," I replied with a smile. The title sounded odd after  
all these months.  
  
"Excuse me?" came from the doorway. We both turned to see Claire standing there. "Alyx, you overdid  
it, didn't you," she said coming to my side.  
  
"No, I did it just right. They got him. That's what matters," I said. "Piotr should be safe now, I  
hope."  
  
Agent Montgomery looked confused for a moment, then recognition flashed across his face. At that  
time I didn't know about all the coverage of my/Ariana's death. Heck, I slept through the whole  
thing, blissfully unaware. But it turned out that first my murder and then my state funeral had  
made international news. I became the expected martyr for Piotr, and his position was as secure as  
it could be in these tumultuous times. At least now that James was under arrest.  
  
We spent the next two days in D.C. while I answered questions for Agent Montgomery. It was an  
interesting time, as I had to not tell him about my abilities while still giving him information he  
needed to dig a really deep hole to bury James in. When we had finished, he asked me one last  
question. He wanted to know why none of the video or audio surveillance in the building picked me  
up. Especially the one outside James' office. I couldn't tell the truth and I wouldn't lie so I  
fell back to that old standby of "Sorry, classified." Doesn't that just describe my life to a T?  
  
All he did was nod and offer me a job. I told him I'd have to think about it. And I will admit it  
was tempting. No more Official, no more Hobbes, no more Darien...okay, there were some  
disadvantages to the offer, but then again Darien thought I was dead, didn't he? So would it make a  
difference?  
  
Hell yes!  
  
Maybe I could get a raise out of the Official. Or a vacation for all of us. Agent Montgomery  
escorted us to the airport and assured us that Mr. Dylan James would be giving no one any problems  
ever again. I did ask a favor of him. To assure Piotr that I was okay. He said he would be glad to.  
Nice guy. Made the job offer real tempting.  
  
Back in San Diego, I spent the rest of the week back in Lab Three, much to my dismay. Claire wanted  
to make sure I was actually fine. I started physical therapy, trying to get my strength back. Not a  
large person to begin with, the extra ten pounds I had lost concerned her quite a bit. Course, I  
first had to get used to solid food again. Can you say 'protein shakes' by the gallon? Ugh.  
  
I kept asking about Darien and Hobbes and kept getting the professional run-around. So, after five  
days, I told Claire I was fine and leaving. I wanted to be home. My first stop, however, was a hair  
salon. I wanted my color back. I wanted to look in a mirror and see me, not some stranger with dark  
brown hair that was turning red on top. It took three hours, but when it was done I was my  
brilliant red again with the exception a half-inch wide section of pure silver by my right temple.  
It refused to take the color. I guess I only had eight lives left.  
  
Looking in the mirror, I was pleased to see myself again for the first time in months. Red hair and  
silver eyes. Maybe things could get back to normal now. Wishful thinking -- I think I'd forgotten  
just how my life tended to go these days.  
  
My next goal was to find Darien. This turned out to be harder than expected. I knew he wasn't at  
the office, so I tried his apartment first, to no avail, then hit all of his usual haunts,  
including a few he didn't know I knew about. It was getting dark, I was tired, my back hurt, and I  
had started limping again, so I decided to give up for now. Getting out of the borrowed car at my  
apartment, I actually pulled out the cane Claire had insisted I use, but which I had been ignoring  
for most of the day. Now I needed it.  
  
Expecting to have to break into my apartment, since the guy I was looking for had my keys, I was  
surprised to find the door wide open. I entered to find Darien standing by my desk, beer in hand,  
looking at a photograph.  
  
"You are a hard man to find, Darien Fawkes. I've been looking all over this damn city for you," I  
said quietly. Gods, it was good to see him.  
  
This might have not been the best thing to do. Darien looked at me, shock being the simplest of  
expressions on his face, and dropped the bottle.  
  
  
  
Darien  
  
The next month or so was a blur of pain and misery. I was forced to endure the worldwide coverage  
of the state funeral for Ariana Goranov. Alyx. If I heard one more comment about how tragic it was  
or how peaceful she looked, I was going to do something very painful to someone. When not doing  
some piddling job or sitting on my ass waiting for one, I was at Alyx's place. Hobbes had been a  
sympathetic ear for the first week, but he was more interested in finding the offending party and  
displaying his remains in small pieces. Admittedly, he had a point, but all of the trails led to  
dead ends.  
  
The actual shooter died in his guarded jail cell only two days after we caught him. He never had a  
chance to talk.  
  
Once again I was going to her place, after doing nothing most of the day with Hobbes. At least we  
get paid for it. A box had been delivered recently. I put it on her desk and went to get a beer out  
of the fridge. Today was a better day than most. It was finally sinking in that she was gone. I  
still missed her, but every day it hurt a little less. Maybe it was a good thing I had never really  
had a chance to get close to Allianora. Her death had hurt, but nothing like this. This hurt the way  
Kevin's had, and I was just starting to feel normal again.  
  
I went over to the desk and opened the box out of curiosity. Moving the packing material aside, I  
found things that had been hers. Some jewelry I'd seen her wear on occasion. The pictures of her  
kids that I had given to her. That bothered me for some reason. Yeah, they thought she was already  
dead, but shouldn't they know the truth? That she had done some really important things, saved  
lives, helped a lot of people? I wasn't sure if I should do something about it. Maybe I'd talk to  
Claire; she might have and idea or two on the subject.  
  
I returned to the items in the box. More jewelry, this stuff real and very expensive. It was the  
silver framed photo that made me stop and stare. It was of Alyx and him, Piotr. Obviously taken  
when they were together. She looked happy and alive. I took a large drink from the beer, hoping to  
chase away the envy I had for the man. He had photos, he had months of nights together with her.  
Hell, he'd had her for better or worse. I had to be honest with myself though -- I'd rather have  
her alive and married to him than have her be dead.  
  
"You are a hard man to find, Darien Fawkes. I've been looking all over this damn city for you,"  
said a quiet voice.  
  
I turned to see who had spoken and saw...a ghost. The bottle slipped from my fingers as I simply  
stared in astonishment at her. At Alyx.  
  
"To quote Mark Twain, 'The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,'" she said, walking  
towards me. I couldn't help but notice that she limped, even while leaning on a cane. I couldn't  
think, didn't know what to say. As she moved closer, I noticed how tired and thin she was. Her hair  
was red again and it looked so vibrant and alive. Her eyes were missing the annoying blue contacts,  
but looked dull instead of bright.  
  
"Darien, are you okay?" she asked.  
  
'Okay?' I thought. Yesterday I would have answered no, but today, until a few moments ago, maybe.  
Now -- no, I was not okay. I spoke, my voice deathly quiet. "Alyx. You were alive. All this time."  
  
"That's debatable," she said. "I've been conscious all of a week and I had to spend part of that in  
D.C." She took another step towards me as I stood there frozen. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I  
got here as soon as I could."  
  
Then she walked past me, leaning on the cane for support. "Sorry, I'd go, but this is my  
apartment." She collapsed onto her bed.  
  
"Alyx..." I began, still irritated and not feeling very sympathetic.  
  
"No, dammit," she snarled, much to my surprise. "I've spent the last several months living for  
someone else and now, when I finally get to be me again, the one person I've been wanting to be  
with the entire time gets angry at me for god knows what..." She stopped and took a deep breath,  
releasing it as a sob. "If you didn't give a damn, why are you here?"  
  
"Didn't give a..." My anger evaporated and I went and sat next her. "I'm here because it helped me  
to remember you."  
  
"I realize it must have been a surprise to see me, but to get angry at me? Why?" she asked, shaking  
her head.  
  
Not five minutes ago I had finally felt the pain of her loss easing, and now here she was and she  
wanted to know why I was angry. "I was finally letting it sink in that you were gone, then I find  
that box of your stuff, and then you walk in the door...it was a bit much," I said. That was  
putting it mildly. I still wasn't sure it had sunk in yet. I could just be having a really vivid  
hallucination. For a moment I wondered if that would be all that bad. Did I really want a reality  
without her?  
  
She brightened and I had to stop myself from smiling. "Stuff, what stuff?"  
  
I stood and got the box that I had been going through. I set it on the bed next to her and backed  
away a couple of steps.  
  
"Hey, my things. I wondered how I was going to get them back," she said as she began to go through  
the box.  
  
I just watched as she looked at each item and set it aside. She looked at the photos of her kids  
with such a sad smile on her face it made my heart ache. The jewelry she set aside with barely a  
glance, as if it was of no importance. The picture of her and Piotr she lingered over, obviously  
remembering the time the picture had been taken. I knew that I had never garnered such a look or  
reflection of memories from her, and damn if that didn't hurt. She then pulled a note out of the  
box, which she slipped behind the framed photo after reading it. It was then I realized she must  
have been in love with him, with Piotr.  
  
"So when do you leave?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. Better alive with him than dead, I  
had to remind myself.  
  
"Leave? What are you talking about?" she asked, looking up at me.  
  
"Back to him." Then I said with a sneer, "You are his wife." It was amazing how difficult those  
words were for me to say. I wanted my chance and it looked like I wasn't going to get it.  
  
"No, Ariana Goranov was his wife and I can assure you she is quite dead," she replied.  
  
I stared at her, my mind spinning. She wasn't going back? What was going on? I couldn't believe  
this was real. My mind could not seem to grasp what she was saying.  
  
"Darien, why would I set this whole damn thing up with the Official if I was just going to go  
back?" she said, sounding frustrated.  
  
"What are you talking about?" I said, confused. I was still stuck on that 'not going back' concept.  
  
"Didn't the Official tell you...? No of course not. Close-mouthed bastard." She stood up and  
limped over to me. "Darien, I took advantage of the assassination attempt to come back home. The  
Official helped me set it up." She took my hand and squeezed it. "I came home because I wanted to  
be with you."  
  
I just stood there, frozen. I couldn't wrap my mind around what she was saying. She wasn't leaving.  
She was staying. Because of me. It had been such a long road to get here that I just couldn't  
believe what I was hearing. Her next words broke me out of my aimless mental circling.  
  
"Apparently that was a mistake," she said, releasing my hand and going back to her bed, where she  
leaned her head against one of the bedposts.  
  
The absolute despair in her voice brought me back to reality. She was here because of me, and I was  
hurting her with my silence. Isn't this what I had wished for, prayed for, dreamed of for the last  
month? Here she was in front of me, and I was being a idiot. Not like that was a new experience or  
anything.  
  
I walked up behind her and put my hands on her bare shoulders. "Getting yourself shot was a  
mistake. Coming home never is," I said quietly.  
  
"It was the best plan I could come up with. The month of unconsciousness..." she said turning  
around to face me. "That was not part of the plan."  
  
"Next time you'll have to do better," I said softly as I leaned in to kiss her.  
  
This I had missed. The stolen moments when she would let her guard down and let me touch her, feel  
her, be with her. No masks, no pretenses. Nothing compared to it. Nothing ever would. And then she  
folded. Her legs giving way beneath her. I caught her and helped her to sit on the edge of her bed.  
  
"Alyx...?" I said, worried. She looked pale and exhausted. Was pale and exhausted.  
  
She laughed lightly, embarrassed by her sudden weakness. "Sorry. Like I said, I've only been up and  
about for a week. And it's been a long day."  
  
Her weakness frightened me. Her ordeal had taken her body from slender to painfully thin, and she  
had already gone to D.C. and back when she probably should have been in a hospital. The Official  
had, in all likelihood, had her doing work the rest of the time as well. Even injured she kept on,  
doing all she could and more.  
  
"I should go," I said. "You need to rest."  
  
I heard her door slam shut and lock across the room.  
  
"What I need is you," she stated simply.  
  
"You don't know what you're saying," I said, convinced that I should leave so that she could have  
some peace. I was trying to be noble. No matter how much I wanted to stay I knew I should go.  
Because if I stayed rest would not be something she would get. At least not for several hours.  
  
"Darien, give me a break," she said her voice gone faint. "You want me on my knees begging? I'll do  
it."  
  
In astonishment I watched as she shifted on her bed, getting to her knees.  
  
"You want me to say I've been a fool? I'll say it."  
  
I walked over to her and looked down into her eyes.  
  
"You want me to say that you've been half of my heart, my soul, my life since the first time we  
met?" She bowed her head down and whispered, "Just please stay."  
  
For a moment I couldn't comprehend what she was saying. Then it hit. Since the first time we met?  
Hell, thanks to the Official, I had tried to rape and kill her that first time. Only with her help  
controlling the madness did I manage to fail. All these months. All the antagonism. All the  
fighting. All the resistance. No wonder she came over before she left -- she thought she was never  
going to see me again. She had finally made her decision. I took her in my arms and she buried her  
face in my chest with a sigh of relief.  
  
Breathing in her scent, I said, "Damn it, woman. I thought I'd lost you."  
  
She pulled back slightly. "Ha, not a chance. You're stuck with me."  
  
That's when I noticed her hair. She had a thin swath of pure silver hair running back from her  
right temple. "Hey, what did you do to your hair?"  
  
"I didn't do anything to it. I guess it wanted a change, maybe rebelling against the brown," she  
said, chuckling lightly.  
  
I brushed the hair back away from her face and leaned in to trail kisses from her temple back to  
her ear. Wrapping an arm about her I shifted us until I was lying above her on the bed and my mouth  
was buried against her throat. She groaned and I lifted my head to look at her.  
  
"What?" I asked softly, but I was unable to wait for a response; her lips tempted me far too much.  
I was kissing and teasing her with my tongue as I felt her hands make their way through my hair.  
With a gentle pull she lifted my head away and rained kisses and wet licks across my throat. Her  
hands let go of my hair and one slid down my back. I pulled away slightly and looked down at her,  
my hand coming up to unbutton her shirt. I can't say I was complaining much to find she wore  
nothing underneath. I brushed my hand across her ribs and slowly made my way upwards. I lowered my  
head and my tongue found the hollow of her throat.  
  
I could feel her heartbeat under my hands as I slowly kissed my way across her shoulder and then  
further down. The groan of pleasure was expected as she arched beneath me in reaction. The yelp of  
pain and quite colorful curse, however, weren't.  
  
I lifted my head and looked at her in amusement and said, "I thought that's what we were working  
on."  
  
Shoving me off of her she said. "Mook. Idge. Dweeb. It's my back, ya big oaf."  
  
"Let me see," I said, helping her to sit and remove the shirt. Then she lay back down on her  
stomach, her head resting on her hands facing away from me.  
  
"Jeeze. What did they do to you?" I asked in complete shock. Seeing the scar, I could understand  
why she was in pain. It was as large as my palm and shaped amazingly like dragon with wings spread.  
It was obvious that they had had to go back in several times. There were several different sets of  
surgical scars all on top of each other. It was just barely healed and still raw looking.  
  
"Got me. I'm just psychic, I don't have eyes in the back of my head. All I know is that it hurts,"  
she said.  
  
"I'm not surprised," I said as I gently traced the outlines of the scar with my fingers.  
  
Generating a small amount of quicksilver, I ran my fingers across her back, causing her to yelp in  
reaction to the intense cold. I then kissed the spot where the quicksilver had been, warming the  
area with my breath and tongue.  
  
"Not fair," she moaned. "So not fair."  
  
I chuckled and moved to kiss her lightly on the mouth before sitting up to remove my shirt. She  
rolled onto her side, raising herself up onto her elbow. She did that dangerous little smile she  
sometimes does and said, "Hmmm. Nice view."  
  
I watched her, drinking her in. Starting at her hip I dragged a hand up her side, only to have her  
collapse onto her face, laughing hysterically.  
  
"Gods, Darien, don't do that," she said when she could breathe again.  
  
I rolled onto my back, trying not to laugh at her. I loved to hear her really laugh.  
  
"Alyx, what am I going to do with you?"  
  
I don't know what she was thinking, but it must have been amusing based on the expressions that  
chased each other across her face. Finally, she crawled over and lay her head on my chest. "How  
about, hold me and don't let go."  
  
I did so gladly and kissed the top of her head. "Is that all?"  
  
"Well no, but considering everything else it's a start," she replied.  
  
I held her tighter, not planning on ever letting go.  
  
  
  
"If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give love because we fear pain or loss,  
then our lives will be empty, our loss greater."  
  
My life had been filled with emptiness and pain for a long, long, time. So much, almost too much,  
had changed, including myself.  
  
"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you  
yourself have altered." Nelson Mandela said that in "A Long Walk To Freedom."  
  
You know, in a strange way, I was finally free. Free to be the person I had become, without fear,  
without repercussions, without heartache.  
  
I had finally come home. -- A.S.  
  
  
  



	6. Epilogue

  
  
-- Fifteen Months Later --  
  
Darien  
  
"I've got a little job for you."  
  
Now, as everyone should know, hearing this was not a good thing by any means. I stood there waiting  
for the Official to continue. Alyx was leaning against the desk, her back to the Official, counting  
to ten sotto voce.  
  
At ten the Official said, "The two of you will be going to Kanvia."  
  
Alyx turned slightly to look at him. "Piotr?" she guessed.  
  
"Yes, and he has requested your assistance. And since the two of you work as a team, and the Keeper  
has trained you to deal with Fawkes here, I think it's safe enough for you both to go." He handed  
Alyx a thick envelope. "Everything you need should be in there. Just drop by the Keep before you  
leave to get the counteragent."  
  
So that's how we found ourselves in a Kanvian airport with armed soldiers staring at us. Okay, so  
we weren't exactly inconspicuous. Alyx especially. I was in black slacks, shirt and leather jacket.  
Alyx was in black leather pants that left little to the imagination and a black top that, while it  
had a collar and shoulders, had only a small swath of material along the bottom leaving her back  
completely bare. She carried her jacket with her bag. We'd traveled only with carry-ons.  
  
It had taken two more surgeries and six months of painful physical therapy, but Alyx had finally  
gotten full use of her arm back. The scar was barely visible now, under the impressive black and  
silver winged dragon she'd had tattooed over it. Okay, so I guess I had mentioned the resemblance  
once too often, but it looked great and somehow it fit.  
  
It was a member of the Royal Guard who came up to us. Even I recognized him. Alyx smiled up at him  
and said in Kanvian, "Vasily, it's good to see you." And much to his embarrassment she kissed him  
on the cheek.  
  
"Madame, please," he said taking her bag from her. "It's good to see you well."  
  
Believe it or not, I understood every word. Alyx had been trying to give me language lessons for  
months, with little success. Oh, I had mastered some simple words and phrases, which we would use  
to pass on information we didn't want others to understand. Code in Yiddish always drove the bad  
guys nuts.  
  
For this trip, she'd given me a choice: she could 'echo' the translation of the language through  
to me, which would mean I could understand but not speak, or she could do a 'memory dump' into my  
head, which would give me the language for a few days. I'd both understand and be able to speak in  
Kanvian until it faded. I opted for number two. It had left both of us with temporary headaches,  
but was worth it since I didn't have to depend on her to be understood.  
  
Vasily led us to a car and opened the door for us. "Is everything all right with Piotr?" she asked  
him.  
  
"Yes, Madame. Everything is well. Were you not told why you were coming?" he asked.  
  
"No, Vasily. Just that Piotr requested our help. We caught a plane and left, literally," I answered.  
  
"Ah, that explains things."  
  
It did? We stayed awake through the entire two hour drive and arrived amidst a party of some kind.  
Vasily informed us we were a bit late due to traffic on the way, but not to worry. Alyx slid her  
jacket on and zipped up. Vasily escorted us into an ornate, decorated ballroom that held about  
three hundred people. Alyx took one look and stopped dead. She turned to Vasily with a nasty look  
and said quietly, "You've got to be kidding me?"  
  
He shook his head at her and escorted us to seats near the front. We looked very, very out of  
place, as everyone else was dressed very formally. As we sat, I turned to Alyx and asked, "What's  
going on?"  
  
*I am soooo going to kill the Official when we get back.* she said into my mind.  
  
Okay, so maybe I was being a little thick-headed, log it off to jet lag. *What?*  
  
*Piotr didn't ask for our help, he invited us to his wedding. The Fat Man is a dead man,* she  
growled.  
  
Wedding? I was at a wedding? Granted, it would explain all the decorations and...the priest. Next  
to me, Alyx started to laugh as quietly as she could. I slouched down in my seat. This was almost  
as embarrassing as the incident that ended with me working for the Agency. The two of us sitting  
there like a couple of thieves, in the middle of a state wedding.  
  
I agreed with Alyx. The Fat Man was a dead man. Alyx had finally managed to get the laughter under  
control when she made the mistake of looking up at the raised dais. Piotr was looking down at us  
with a single raised eyebrow.  
  
She shook her head at him and began to laugh again. I chuckled. It was funny. She managed to get  
herself under control again by the time the bride came down the aisle.  
  
We sat through the wedding, which was fairly short by royal standards, and were then escorted to  
the reception by the patient Vasily. We joined the receiving line near the end, and when it was our  
turn Piotr said, "Your choice of attire was quite creative. I take it you were expecting to be  
working?"  
  
"Our boss failed to inform us that this was an informal request," I answered, shaking his hand.  
  
"Informal request, my ass," Alyx said. "He all but told us we'd be working, and nothing else.  
Forgive us?"  
  
"Easily done," he said, taking her hand. He leaned forward and kissed her soundly on the lips. "Ah,  
I missed your company."  
  
"My company or my protection?" she said with a smile.  
  
"They were separate things?" he replied sardonically.  
  
Alyx turned to Piotr's bride and gave her a kiss on each cheek. "Misha, I am so happy for you."  
  
The poor woman looked shocked. "Ari...Alyx, I don't know what to say. When Piotr told me the truth  
about you, I felt so guilty for the way I treated you..." She fell silent.  
  
"Misha, I promise you there were and are no hard feelings. I understood completely. I wish I could  
have explained then, but..." Alyx shrugged.  
  
"Yes, I know. Now I do, any way." She smiled.  
  
Alyx said. "We're holding up the line. We'll go steal a couple of seats and get out of the way."  
  
"Alyx..." Piotr began.  
  
"I know Piotr. You take good care of her and the baby, or I'll have to come back," Alyx mock  
threatened.  
  
"How could you know that?" was Misha's stunned question.  
  
It was Piotr who answered. "Misha, she always knows these things. Haven't you learned that yet?" He  
gave Alyx another quick kiss and then we moved on.  
  
We found some seats at an out of the way table and watched the happy couple enjoy their day. I  
wondered if Alyx envied them at all. I'll have to admit I had thoughts running through my head that  
normally would not have crossed my mind. And they all involved weddings. Alyx tapped me on the arm  
and I leaned over to hear her over the music.  
  
She gave me a kiss and then said, "Stop thinking that. I like things just the way they are."  
  
"Are you sure? I mean look at them. They..."  
  
"Are not us," she finished, moving to sit on my lap. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she  
whispered in my ear. "They're mere mortals. Let them enjoy the time they have."  
  
I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her as close to me as possible. "And we're not?"  
  
She laughed. "I've 'died' twice now and you can ask me that?"  
  
Okay, so she was right about that. I just wanted to make sure that she was happy. "Alyx, I..."  
  
"You are talking to much. I am happy, Dare. With you. With my life. Even the days we're being shot  
at. And that's all that matters." She paused, licking her lips. "If you want trappings, make it a  
soft bed and time alone. 'Cause that's all I need and we work too damn hard for anything else."  
  
She was right, but... I shook my head. I'd deal with it later, when the distractions of the moment  
-- her -- weren't taking over what little thought I was capable of. For now I was willing to simply  
enjoy the fact we had some time alone without having to worry about what dangers were around the  
next corner. I had every intention of enjoying the next three days to their fullest.  
  
  
  
Finis  
  
  



End file.
